Here Be Dragons
by T'Pring
Summary: Soon after the Nano virus outbreak when tensions between Elizabeth and Major John Sheppard are still thick, Elizabeth finds herself on the mainland with him, helping battle an Ancient experiment come back to menace the Athosian settlement.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Story takes place shortly after Hot Zone in Season 1. Story is complete._

Here Be Dragons by T'Pring

_"And by the way, I saved your ass."_

_"I know you did. But you have to trust me."_

_"I do…"_

_"Do you?"_

A piercing shriek pulled Elizabeth out of sleepy stupor and thrust her into cool morning reality. She hit the alarm clock with a practiced slap, not bothering to set the snooze. She was awake. Mostly.

A brisk shower and her morning cup of Athosian tea did little to penetrate the fog that seemed persistent between her ears and she walked into Atlantis's beautiful control room, more occupied with her own thoughts than with her day's tasks. It was her habit to check in with the technicians on duty, get the daily status report on what new, amazing discoveries had been unlocked that day as they continued to explore not only the physical wonders of Atlantis, but also its treasure-trove of knowledge, housed entirely within the city's database.

Today, Rodney had already spread two laptops across one of the piano-like keyboards in the back of the control room, a sure sign than either something was up, or that he was feeling particularly smug. Teyla stood easily at his shoulder, looking at the laptop he was furiously typing at.

Elizabeth sighed, not feeling particularly up to the energy it took to manage McKay in ego-mode.

"Good Morning, Dr. Weir."

Teyla's cheerful greeting, always so formal and yet warm at the same time, cheered Elizabeth considerably, so she mustered her courage to join the Athosian woman in her comfortable vigil over Rodney's efforts. With a quick glance around the room, Elizabeth confirmed that John – _Major Sheppard_ – wasn't nearby.

She breathed a quick breath of relief. The mood between them had been forced since their conflict during the Nano virus outbreak. John hadn't exactly been avoiding her, but he'd been spending less time in the control room than usual. When he _was_ around, he'd adopted this annoying attitude of…_nice_. A behavior that only reminded her it was _she_ who was still a little mad. The fact that he wasn't mad only reinforced the message that he considered their conflict her problem.

She shook off her unease and forced herself to return Teyla's smile.

"Good morning, Teyla. What are you up to so early in the day?" The young woman usually spent her mornings either with the computers or training Sheppard's soldiers in Athosian stick-fighting techniques.

"I received an alarming message from the Athosian settlement. Rodney is helping me scan the mainland and search the database."

"Alarming?" Elizabeth stepped closer to peer at the screen that Rodney, who so far had ignored her arrival, was working on.

"Yes. A hunting party that was exploring the foothills of the mountains to the west of the settlement encountered a very large predator, yesterday. They managed to escape it without injury, but they are concerned that by inadvertently revealing themselves to it, they have led it back to the settlement. A farmer spotted an animal that meets the description prowling the furthest boundaries of his field this morning."

"How large is very large?" Elizabeth wondered out loud. Teyla's eyes went wide with concern.

"The hunt leader told Halling that he had never seen a creature like it! It was reptilian, capable of moving on four legs and standing on two, and it had…wings."

"Wings? A large flying creature lives on the mainland? Why haven't we spotted this before? We surveyed the mainland for miles around the settlement before we began building it!"

"I do not know. The hunters never saw it fly. Perhaps the wings are vestigial. Perhaps it was flushed from its regular habitat during the hurricane last month. Or…" Teyla's voice trailed off, amused. "I have no idea how to speculate about a creature that is so far from my experience. Rodney hopes there may be some information about them stored in the Ancient database."

"So, have you found anything?" Elizabeth prompted Rodney who was still studiously ignoring them. She felt a nudge of curiosity and it was a good feeling. Rodney just chuffed.

"I've found the directory for the section of the database that seems to include the Ancients' notes about indigenous species on this planet, if that happens to qualify as 'anything'," he snapped, slapping harder at the keys.

"Did they mention this creature?" Teyla leaned forward to peer at the screen in her eagerness.

"_Unfortunately_, the Ancients didn't have the manners to catalog their entry under the phrase 'big scary monster', so it might take another _minute_ or two for me to read their cataloging criteria such that I can translate your less than specific description into something that might narrow the millions of records into merely a few hundred."

"Rodney!" Elizabeth began, her fragile temper flaring at his sarcasm, but Teyla just grinned, rolled her eyes and pointed to a section of the screen.

"I believe if you narrow your query to this category, we will have an excellent place to start."

Elizabeth suppressed a grin as Rodney took a breath to dismiss her suggestion out of hand, then cocked his head.

"Predators of the mainland," he muttered, obviously translating the column Teyla had pointed to. "I suppose that is as good a match as we can get. You're sure it was a predator? Not just a…a giant rodent or something?"

Teyla shook her head firmly. "Halling said the hunters were very impressed by the creatures' teeth and sense of smell. It pursued them like a _thera._" She hesitated, most likely at the blank look Elizabeth knew was plastered all over her face. "_Thera _are like the great cats from you world. What are they called? Lions! Mountain lions. Major Sheppard has described them. Rodney, I am certain that the creature is a hunter."

"Well, then. Let's see what we can find."

Rodney sounded interested, despite himself and didn't even protest when Elizabeth and Teyla crowded at his side to read over his shoulders. Several minutes passed in comfortable anticipation. Elizabeth tried to read and translate as fast as she could – there were some fascinating creatures in the list – but Rodney was skimming for the descriptors that they did have.

At last, he paused. A table of biological information expanded across the screen and even Elizabeth could tell that there was more detail in this record than had accompanied most of the other species.

"It was an experiment!" she exclaimed at last. She pointed to a line of Ancient text in the table headers.

"What's an experiment?"

This question was from a new voice, and Elizabeth looked up from the screen to find John leaning over the back of the control panel to peer upside down over the edge of the screen. The man had an uncanny sense of when things were about to get interesting.

Elizabeth tensed, but Teyla's smile grew brighter. "Rodney has found a match for the creature that the Athosian hunters discovered. It appears to be a descendant of a species that the Ancients were trying to breed for…" she leaned in front of Rodney to peer at the screen, eliciting a grunt of annoyance, "security and offensive battle maneuvers."

"The Ancients were breeding attack dogs on the mainland?"

John was nothing if not quick on the update, Elizabeth had to admit. Rodney chuffed again, this time going for an air of superiority.

"The originals were more like flying geckos than canines. And they weren't nearly as big as your hunters described. The Ancients described them as roughly," Rodney toggled the information on the screen, pulled a double-take, then gave John a disgusted look, "dog sized. Teyla, are you sure the hunters weren't exaggerating?"

"I am sure," Teyla answered firmly. "Perhaps they have grown larger in the centuries since the Ancients abandoned this world."

"Perhaps." Rodney didn't sound willing to concede the idea, but he went on, reading more from the file. "The Ancients apparently set up an outpost in the foothills, not more than a deer blind really, and then lured the individuals with the traits they wished to evolve to the blind in the hope that they could build a colony that would answer to them."

Rodney closed the database window and opened another. Teyla and Elizabeth straightened and Teyla's look of disappointment mirrored her own.

"If these things are souped up predators, I'm even more worried about the settlement, now," John exclaimed firmly.

Elizabeth favored him with a calculating look and, sure enough, he was already radiating that "let's go" energy that was becoming all too familiar. It was the energy that preceded lines like "I'll do it" when volunteering to manually trigger a trap that catches power-eating darkness and "It's just a little nuke," when referring to insane plans to outrun an overloading naquadah generator.

"I am concerned, too." Teyla was nodding. "I must warn Halling right away. Rodney, does the database describe any weaknesses of the creature the Athosian hunters might exploit, or...or tell how the Ancients persuaded the creatures to answer to them?"

"No. Not in the species database, anyway. The file referenced the breeding program records, but the link is offline. My guess is that the data was kept at the blind itself and is inactive. We might find out more if we find the blind and turn those computers back on."

John slapped his hands together. "Then that's what we'll do. Elizabeth, I'd like to take a security team to leave at the settlement, too. The Athosians might need some help keeping an eye out for those things until we figure out how to either lure them away or frighten them off."

Teyla's look was pure appreciation, but Elizabeth felt herself bristle.

"Adding security to the settlement is entirely up to you, Major," she began, hearing her voice go frostier than she really intended. "But I'd like to look into the records a bit more before I approve a mission into deep forest to look for the research blind."

John stiffened, opened his mouth, then hesitated. His expressive face flashed a second of keen calculation, then settled into that maddening look of supreme _niceness_.

"Sure. Take your time. But in the meantime, it's going to really impact the Athosians' ability to hunt and work their land if they have to look over their shoulders every second. Not to mention leaving them with extra security over the long term will take manpower off my rotation for Atlantis security and offworld recon. Not to mention resources to ship teams back and forth from the mainland and – ."

"I get it, John," Elizabeth snapped, then immediately regretted it. "Look, I'm not saying wait a month, I'm saying wait ten damn minutes!"

"Oh. Ok," John's grin was infuriating. "It will take us an hour to muster a security unit and enough supplies for a day or two. We don't want to put the Athosians out while we're hanging around. Rodney, can you get us coordinates for the research blind and recent scans of the mountains to determine how many of those things are out there?"

Elizabeth snapped her jaw shut and glared. Rodney was looking nervously between her and John when he answered, sounding flustered.

"What? Well, yes. I've got the coordinates, but it's in deep forest. You won't be able to see it from the air."

"We'll survey what we can and land a jumper where we can." John dismissed the concern.

"And I've been scanning for ten minutes and picked up nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing?" Elizabeth pounced.

"I mean – I am not detecting any large creatures, except the Athosians, within a hundred-kilometer radius of the settlement. That may be because they are reptilian and have a very cool bio-signature that is difficult to distinguish from ambient temperatures, but we _are_ dealing with Ancient meddling, here."

"What are you implying?"

"That one of the traits they could have been enhancing was stealth, the ability to avoid sensor detection."

Elizabeth shot John a look. "Still think we should rush into an expedition on foot?"

"Still think we should leave these things alone for the Athosians to handle by themselves?" John shot back. "Rodney, be ready in an hour. Teyla, call Halling and let them know to expect us. For the moment, I'd also recommend you ask your people to stay within the village itself until we set up some security around the fields. Hunting is unadvised altogether."

"I will do so," Teyla replied crisply and darted to the communications panel. His orders dispensed, John turned last to Elizabeth, his body language conveying determination even while his face remained plastered with _nice_.

"Elizabeth," he began and she heard that same tone in his voice he'd used when she'd tried to dress him down after he'd neutralized the Nano viruses. _Sometimes I see a situation a little different..._ "We can't secure the settlement if we don't know how to manage these creatures. The only way we can do that is to find the blind and get into those records. If we're lucky, they'll tell us how to say "Fetch" and "Stay" and call the things off."

"And if we're not?"

"Then we'll at least know what we're dealing with. Personally, I find it easier to make friends with a dog if I know where it likes to be scratched. And besides, it's not like we're going on an overnight hike unprotected. I'll get a jumper within a short walk, or better. We'll have plenty of backup." He patted his sidearm.

Elizabeth held his gaze, acknowledged that he seemed to be taking the time to persuade, if belatedly. And she appreciated that. She took a deep breath, willing herself to see the situation logically. Perhaps she was overprotective. John's seemingly endless confidence and headlong enthusiasm rubbed against her natural caution. They didn't just see things differently, they saw things from the completely opposite end of the tube. Perhaps she should take the time to try out a new perspective.

"Very well, you can take a team to the blind and learn what you can," Elizabeth saw the grin on John's face go genuine, but she kept on talking, "and I'm going with you."

The look of pure surprise was priceless. John stared, shared a look with Rodney who looked equally surprised, then tried for a rebuttal.

"I don't think that's a good idea. We'll need someone on the database here to link up when we get the blind active -."

"Peter can handle that. If you want to settle the situation as quickly as you can – which I agree, the Athosians are at risk – then you'll need someone who can translate those records at the blind."

"Rodney can -."

"Rodney has the Atlantis database running through translators for our use in the city. We won't have access to those at the research blind, not until we link it to the City. You may need someone who can read Ancient without a translator to do that."

"But -."

"And like you said, it's just a stroll through the woods. Nothing to worry about."

"I didn't say there was nothing to worry about," John spat, then stopped himself, realizing the trap she'd set. If he contradicted her too adamantly, he'd be confirming her concerns to start with.

"Of course not. But I think I have been a bit overcautious of late. I'm going to embrace your recommendations fully, Major, and join you."

"My recommendations didn't include you, Elizabeth. And don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"What am I doing?" she asked innocently.

He glared for a long moment, and Elizabeth managed to keep her face passive, her posture neutral. In the game they were playing – the "who's in charge" game – she had at least outmaneuvered him verbally, and he knew it. But it was important to her.

John needed to trust that she would give him the reins at the right time, so that he didn't feel the need to overrun her. But at the same time, she couldn't trust _him_ if he consistently understated or ignored the danger she was trying to evaluate. She needed him to be honest about the threats he was facing. The incident with the Nano virus had painted a very bright spotlight on his tendency to ignore his own welfare, at risk of everyone else. Elizabeth hoped a bit of subtle manipulation might bring John around to her perspective, just as she was trying to give his a go.

"Be ready in an hour or we're leaving without you," he snapped at last and stalked out of the control room towards his own preparations.

Elizabeth grinned, but it was rueful. She liked John. She hated the tension that had crept into their working relationship of late. They were all in this chin deep and they couldn't afford to disrupt what fragile control they did have over their tenuous situation in this uncharted galaxy.

Rodney was shooting furtive looks at her until she chuffed.

"What?"

"It's just...Are you sure you want to go traipse around the woods with mad dogs on the loose?"

"Major Sheppard seems to think it's safe enough." She spoke the words with a finality that even Rodney picked up on, but she did hear him mutter, "Safe enough for _him_," before he went on.

"I've been scanning the area that the database says the blind is in and I'm getting no unusual readings of any sort. No power, no computer pings. If the blind is even still there, it's completely shut down. We should take a naquadah generator in case whatever local power they were using has died completely."

"Sounds good. Anything else?" Elizabeth was eager to get to her own packing. She didn't doubt for a minute that John would leave her behind if she were late.

"There's just a note in the database I can't translate."

"Regarding what?" Elizabeth stepped around to peer closely at the screen. Rodney pointed at a message that popped up when he hovered over a certain spot on the map of the mainland.

"Regarding the blind. It's a geo-tag. It appears anytime you are searching this specific location – or flying over, I assume. We'll be able to see it from the HUD on the jumpers."

Elizabeth squinted, trying to get the context of the Ancient note. It contained a couple of vocabulary words that she had not run across yet. Something about "this is where" or "find this here". That made sense. The second vocabulary word must refer to the creatures themselves, which is probably why she hadn't seen it before. She tried for a phonetic pronunciation. The first symbol usually sounded like a "der". The second two combined to make a "ah-ee" dipthong. The third...

She stood up abruptly, covered her mouth with her hand.

"What? What does it say?" Rodney exclaimed, squinting at the screen as if staring at it would tell him what she'd figured out.

"Dragons," Elizabeth said at last when Rodney gave up and fixed her with an annoyed look. She didn't know whether to laugh or shudder. "It says, 'Here be dragons'."

Rodney grinned like a kid. "Really?"

Elizabeth just nodded. She really wished that John had given her those ten minutes...


	2. Chapter 2

The jumper was packed tight and stuffy, despite John's litany of reassurances to Rodney who was convinced they were running out of air. Elizabeth just almost agreed with Rodney on this one.

She was sitting wedged between Teyla and Sgt. Cole, who in turn were wedged against two other soldiers on the starboard bench in the back of the jumper. Four other soldiers were sitting awkwardly on the bench across from her and both the netting and the floor were piled high with duffle bags and supplies.

There was an awkward moment when the jumper bumped lightly onto the landing pad beside the Athosian settlement and the back hatch lowered to open onto a damp, misty spring morning. They were so packed in, that no one could figure out who should exit first. Sgt Cole, a short but broad young man, finally bellowed an amused curse and waded through the pile of bags to the ramp and then began flinging the gear in their way onto the ground. The other Marines joined him once he had a path cleared, and almost before Elizabeth knew it, the jumper was unloaded and John and Rodney were sauntering past from the cockpit.

Outside, the chaos had an organized randomness to it. Lt. Ford was hustling off an initial patrol of the perimeter and two others were setting up a tent that would serve both as command center and bunk room while the eight soldiers were staying on the mainland.

Elizabeth was more interested in checking on the Athosians, however, and she followed Teyla over to a very worried-looking cluster of villagers. Halling's brow was furrowed tightly and he had his arm firmly around Jinto, obviously keeping the boy close at hand. Teyla touched foreheads with Halling, who wasted no time in explaining his unease.

"We have seen two more of the creatures and they are growing bolder. One of the older boys wandered too far from the village and was attacked." Halling raised his hands at her and Teyla's exclamations of alarm, "Jaxim suffered several scratches, but he will be fine. The creature hesitated in its attack and the hunters were able to drive it away with rocks and spears."

"We brought medical supplies. I'm sure corpsman Walker would be happy to take a look at the boy," Elizabeth offered, eager to show her concern.

"That will not be necessary. We are quite capable of treating scratches." Halling's look was proud, and Elizabeth backed off, reminding herself forcibly that Teyla's people had been an independent nation for centuries, long before Elizabeth came to town. The pride faltered, briefly, however when the Athosian leader added, "But we are grateful for your help in defending ourselves against these creatures. I fear we may have to move the settlement again."

"We're not there, yet," Elizabeth reassured.

"We are going to the place in the mountains where the Ancients were breeding these creatures. We hope to learn their weaknesses and how they can be persuaded to return to their regular hunting grounds," Teyla added, equally eager to reassure the tension of the people around her.

Halling just jerked his head in gratitude and excused himself to help John organize a patrol perimeter. Elizabeth spent the next several hours with Teyla among the people who had been gathered into the large tent that served as the Athosians' community center. Many of the men and young women without children were helping organize security around the settlement or trying to work the fields as best they could within the safety precautions. The rest tried to go about their work as usual in town.

Elizabeth spent most of her time among the group of children who had been gathered in one corner to go over their lessons. Despite their simple lifestyle, the Athosians were highly educated. They taught each generation science, mathematics, and even astronomy and physics as they understood it, gleaned from their own travels through space. Many of the lessons were verbal, but in the time Elizabeth watched, the children also scratched equations on chalkboards, studied plants and small dead animals, and built small models.

The sun was warming the western side of the tent, having broken through the scattering clouds just after noon, when John and Rodney burst through the flaps. Elizabeth stretched, and excused herself from the children, recognizing the "let's go" signals in John's posture. Teyla was at her shoulder when John waved them outside.

"We've got the Marines and Athosians organized into patrols and sentry posts, but these things are damn stealthy. Aother one just got through the perimeter. We caught it stalking a pair of farmers that were putting their tools away. They seem really smart, like they're scoping things out. I wouldn't be surprised if they hunt in groups."

John blurted out his report without preamble and Elizabeth just listened, seeing his concern in every jerky hand wave and nervous scrub through his hair. Whatever else he was, John was a deeply empathetic man. She wasn't surprised at all by his next words.

"We need to get to that research blind as soon as possible. See if there's anything that will tell us how to scare them off because so far, the damn things seem pretty confident. I sent the jumper to get motion sensors. It will get back in a few minutes, then Teyla, Ford, and I are heading out while Rodney sets them up."

Elizabeth bit her tongue, asked the obvious question first, "Motion sensors?" It was Rodney who answered.

"Yes. As I suspected, these things have been enhanced for stealth. They don't show up on any of our scanners, even when I was standing right in front of one. My guess is they regulate their temperature and reflect the local ambient biosignatures to imitate their surroundings. Like a chameleon, but with EM instead of color. They can't change their visual appearance, thank goodness for that and who knows, the Ancients may have been hoping to get them to do that eventually. We are going to put up old fashioned motion sensors to alert us when anything is crossing the perimeter."

"Damn inconvenient," John growled.

"No kidding," Rodney agreed. "Leave it to the Ancients to give us all this great technology, then throw a problem at us that it won't help with."

"If Rodney is staying here, you'll definitely need a translator," Elizabeth added hastily, seeing that John's attention was returning elsewhere. He snapped his head back to her, a frown playing on his already worried face. "I should go with you," she finished firmly.

John glared but it was Rodney who started to squirm.

"She's right, you know. Your Ancient is good, Teyla's too, but Elizabeth's already had to puzzle out the dragon thing without the translators and there may be more of that. We have very little experience with the life sciences, so far. There will very likely be vocabulary you just won't be able to get."

"I'd rather deal with vocabulary than a civilian in hostile territory," John quipped. "Elizabeth, these things are more formidable than we'd imagined. I can't babysit you just so you can prove a point."

"I'm not just – ," she began hotly. John cut her off.

"No. As far as I'm concerned, we're offworld in a hostile situation. I'm in charge."

Elizabeth counted to three, surprised he'd simply called the game for what it was. Surprised that he seemed to be still missing the point.

"I agree completely, John. You are in charge. That's why I'm _asking_. I... I'm concerned about the Athosians, too. I don't want anyone to get hurt, and I don't want them to have to move again. I'm asking because I think I can help. And that by going I can help more quickly."

She put every ounce of sincerity in her voice that she could. John's look softened and his lips twitched.

"What do you think, Teyla?"

"I believe that Dr. Weir will be very valuable in understanding this threat. Evening will fall in just a few hours. I fear that these beasts will coordinate their hunting after dark and we will be in even more danger." Elizabeth grinned, feeling the argument go her way until Teyla added, "But she is not trained in combat or survival as you and I are, John. I also fear for her safety. I believe the decision is yours."

Elizabeth felt her eyes go wide, and she watched John closely, looking for a clue to his decision. She no longer felt belligerence from him – she had conceded his authority.

"Ok. You can go. But I decide if you get to leave the jumper, and you do what I tell you, no questions asked. If I tell you to run like a rabbit over a cliff, you do it. Do you understand?"

"No. But I'll do it anyway," she grinned. John rolled his eyes, but he seemed satisfied.

"Good. I'm worried about nightfall, too," John said softly and Elizabeth saw the truth of it in his eyes. "Get yourselves ready."

He and Rodney wandered towards the landing pad. Elizabeth watched them go.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Teyla."

"You are welcome." Teyla cocked her head, looked like she was going to offer something else, then excused herself instead. _This_ was going to be a fun afternoon...

* * *

><p>By the time John finally decided to land, it was Elizabeth who was nearly screaming with impatience. They'd spent a good half hour cruising the air over the supposed location of the research blind in slow circles, then another half hour looking for a landing spot.<p>

The blind was at the very edge of the mountain range that rose impressively over their heads to the west. John was convinced that it was actually nestled against a steep wall of rock that marked the first foothills and he had babbled for a while about how the landscape was similar to the area around Colorado Springs and the Air Force Academy, if more forested and dragon-infested.

When they did begin their descent, Elizabeth found herself bracing against the chair as the crowns of trees crawled by the cockpit window only inches away from the nose of the craft. John grunted in apology when the little ship lurched a bit and the sound of bark against metal scraped down one side.

"Sorry, folks. It's a tight fit."

"How far to the blind?" Elizabeth blurted, then regretted the interruption. John concentration on his landing was "intent" bordering on "furious".

"About a mile. Sorry about that, too. The blind is on a steep grade. Nowhere to land any closer."

"Are you sure there's a place to land, _here_, sir?" Aiden Ford piped up, his own knuckles white against the co-pilot's armrests.

John's chuckle was a bit manic.

When they finally reached the bottom, the jumper settled on a slight grade and they were all gently pressed towards the port side. The ground outside the cockpit window continued to climb as it stretched out of site.

John slumped in his seat, then rubbed his hands on his pants, looking pleased.

"Gear up, kiddies," he bellowed cheerfully. The lone soldier in the back, Sgt. Markham, was the only one, aside from John, who wasn't a bit green around the gills. As a pilot himself, he'd obviously earned a tougher stomach.

Elizabeth hooked on her backpack, the small tablet computer tucked inside a parting 'gift' from Rodney. John, Teyla, Ford, and Markham all checked and loaded their weapons. Elizabeth felt the pull of the holster on her own hip, but she preferred to leave it be, trusting John's words that he'd readied the weapon, except for the safeties, before he'd given it to her.

The breeze through the back hatch was even cooler than down at the settlement. They were already in the mountain's shadow, and the view at the bottom of the ramp was grey and cool. John waved Teyla to his shoulder, put Elizabeth just behind them, and signaled Ford and Markham to bring up the rear.

With slow, deliberate steps, John led the group away from the jumper with steady confidence, pausing only to close the hatch with his remote.

They moved steadily uphill in absolute silence. The wary tension of the soldiers around her began to get on her nerves. She realized her fingers were curled into fists, and that her jaw was beginning to ache from how tightly she was clenching her teeth. She decided to watch John rather than try to keep everyone in sight, but he wasn't much reassurance.

John's head was on a constant swivel. Once or twice, she'd see his focus zero in on something ahead of, or beside them, and then move on once he'd determined there was no threat. Every time he froze, or paused, her heart would race and she would feel her face flush. The constant feeling of alarm was exhausting. She wondered how soldiers in combat maintained this type of vigilance over days, even weeks.

A mile never felt so long. Elizabeth started mentally reciting the U.S. constitution in Ancient to suppress the "are we there yets" that longed to escape. John finally lowered his shoulders and stopped walking. "There it is. Some of it's intact, at least."

Elizabeth followed his careless wave and sucked in her breath. The blind was built into the side of the hill itself. A long line of stone steps was cut into the steep hill from a few feet in front of them to a metal entrance that jutted out of a lumpy pile of rocks over their heads. Tall trees clung to the steep wall of stone for a half kilometer above the door, then gave up to leave the top of the peak bare and bald looking.

"Major!"

The fierce hiss came from Teyla. Elizabeth felt a shiver crawl from her spine into her scalp when she followed the woman's wave to a shadowy lump that lay across one of the many boulders on the stone wall. The creature was very like a dragon. Or a lion. Or...some hybrid that had combined the features of one with the behavior of the other. A 400 pound hybrid. It _was_ much bigger than a dog.

It had a long rectangular head and smooth grey-green skin that gleamed like rubbed leather. A long tail stretched out behind it, then, amazingly, curled into a spiral like a chameleon's when it noticed them watching it. The wings that the database had described were flattened completely along the creature's torso, such that they were almost invisible, but Elizabeth, in her heightened state of observation, could see that the furled skin was patterned more brightly than its haunches. Its legs were bowed and wide set, like a lizard, but did not rise above its back like a lizard's would.

At the moment the dragon was crouched on the boulder like a cat about to pounce. Its head was low, and its haunches were rocking back and forth as it watched them. Even though it was at least 50 yards away, Elizabeth suddenly had no doubt that the thing could be among them in a heartbeat.

"I got nothing on the LSD," John whispered back, his tone furious. He shoved the useless device into his vest, settled his hands on his weapon. "We've got to get to that door so we take it slow and easy. Stay together. Look big. If it moves any closer, fire warning shots into the ground. I'd rather try frightening it off than pissing it off with wounding fire. I'll keep my eye on this one, the rest of you keep your eyes peeled for others."

The soldiers acknowledged the orders with soft grunts. Elizabeth just drew closer to Teyla, feeling very exposed.

As a large clump, they began moving slowly towards the steps. The creature's tail curled and uncurled, the dragon version of wagging, but it remained otherwise motionless. If it had been a cat, Elizabeth would have thought it looked curious rather than hungry. John moved them forward, never breaking eye contact with it. He hesitated at the stairs, threw Teyla a puzzled shrug, then put his foot on the bottom step.

That was when everything went to hell.

The step, which had seemed mere stone only a second before, came to life with a bright glow, as did the rest of them, all the way up to the door. John froze, looked down at his feet. An instant later, another light on top of the entrance porch began to glow. The creature on the rock leaped to its feet, yowled a rasping hiss and shook its head like someone had just slapped it.

It yowled again, and this time the yowl was answered by another throat behind them. And a third further up the hill.

"Oh...crap!" John spat. "Go! To the door! Don't run. Stay together!"

Elizabeth was frozen with surprise, but a nudge in the back from Ford behind her jolted her out of the shock and she began following Teyla up the stairs. The first creature they'd spotted was sitting on its hind legs with its neck stretched into the air, still yowling. Something was affecting it, Elizabeth realized. Something that only it could hear, or see, maybe.

They were halfway up the climb, perhaps another 50 yards from the door, when the dragon finally decided that they were the ones who were causing it discomfort and with a leap as quick as any lion, it lunged off its stone and hurtled towards them, its head low, its wings now slightly unfurled and even more dragon-like than ever.

Almost as quickly, John shouted, "Watch my back!" And before Elizabeth could shout so much as a "wait!" He'd leaped off the steps onto the unstable slope and was charging the creature, his arms wide and screaming his head off.

Certain that she was just about to see John Sheppard eaten like a rabbit, she was shocked when the creature startled, checked its charge and dropped back into a low crouch, its haunches wagging again, but looking uncertain. John fired a short burst into the ground in front of it, and it scuttled back a few more feet, tail curling furiously.

"Go!" John yelled, bracing himself on the unsteady rocks. Teyla followed the order at once and Elizabeth followed her upwards on blind obedience alone.

"Sir! Another one!"

Elizabeth froze again, having no response but instinct. Ford and Markham were pointing and aiming their weapons at another crouching figure downhill from them and on the opposite side of the stairs from John's dragon. Wondering just how many of these things were around, hidden from their sensors, she spun, scraping her eyes over the rest of the hill above them. Her eyes fell on a flash of movement.

"Ford! Uphill!" she yelled.

Ford turned just in time to see the third dragon leaping at Markham, with front claws extended. Elizabeth watched, helpless, as both Ford and Markham turned, fired desperately at point-blank range into the beast's chest. Even though she was certain they'd hit the exposed chest and belly, the thing's momentum carried it onto them, and all three toppled off the stairs to slide in a big jumble nearly back to the bottom step.

"Ford!" John yelped, and Elizabeth whipped her gaze back around to find John, a look of horror on his face, watching the tangle of bodies slide down hill.

The moment of distraction was all the first dragon needed. Without so much as a warning yowl, it pounced on John. He went down like a rag doll. Elizabeth watched, horrified as a powerful front claw pawed across John's limp body, drawing a row of stripes along the grey fabric of John's uniform that was all she could see. A low growl reached her ears. Elizabeth shivered when she recognized that the sound had not come from the beast.

"Dr. Weir, you must get the door open. Quickly! Run to the top as fast as you can!" Teyla's urgent command was filled with fear, but the young woman gave her a shove upwards and Elizabeth found her feet moving up one stair and then the next. Once Teyla was satisfied that she was doing as ordered, Elizabeth watched her dart off the steps and charge the beast mauling John as John had done. Far below, Ford and Markham were scrabbling to their feet, brushing dust off their hands, but looking otherwise none the worse.

With a burst of panic, Elizabeth raced up the steps and finally reached the blind's door, breathless and panting. She slammed her fists against the opening before reason took hold and she scoured the small enclosure for any sign of key panels, locks, handles, anything that would show her how to open it. It took her a moment to realize that a simple swipe bar, like all the doors on Atlantis, was glowing very faintly along the right edge of the back wall.

With a frantic slap, she waved her hand over the bar, then did it again when nothing happened. Against all reason she whacked the bar a third time and heard the faint beep that accompanied the swipe. It was _registering_ her hand, it just wasn't letting her in.

She began to search the tiny porch again. _Think_, she commanded herself trying to concentrate over the pounding in her ears. _It's an Ancient Outpost. It's getting power because the lights came on when John..._ She stopped randomly touching walls. _When John touched the step. It requires the Ancient gene to open!_

Flushed with her realization, she whirled, heart thumping in her chest.

Teyla was screaming and firing her weapon and waving a flare at the creature who crouched over John like it was protecting a kill. Elizabeth felt her eyes sting with frustration. She could only see a bit of his jacket and what might have been the shock of his dark hair against a pale stone. He was lying very still, whatever part of him she was seeing. Teyla rushed it, still screaming, then skittered back when the dragon lowered its jaws around John's shoulder and tugged, as if about to pick him up and carry him off.

Elizabeth stepped away from the portico to look for Ford and Markham. Markham had the artificial gene. He could open the door! Why weren't they climbing the hill to help Teyla?

Her answer was more frightening than their absence. Ford and Markham stood at the bottom step, back to back, weapons raised, as not one, not two, but three more dragons crept out of the forest on the hill between them and Teyla. Each of the new dragons were giving Ford and Markham a wide berth, and all of them were shaking their ears like the first had done before it charged. Whatever the outpost was broadcasting was affecting ALL the dragons. And worse, it seemed to be calling them. A fourth dragon yowled from further up the hill on Elizabeth's left.

She was cut off from Ford and Markham with more dragons appearing by the minute. The only escape was through the door that only John could open.

Teyla fired more shots into the air. The dragon hissed, before taking another secure bite on John. The new dragons were drawing close too, and Elizabeth suddenly knew what she had to do. They had to get John away from the dragon before the others got any closer and either convinced it to drag John off or start a fight for possession of him.

She leaped off the porch, grabbed a handful of rocks and scrambled towards John and Teyla, screaming like a crazy woman and throwing rocks. Teyla redoubled her own efforts to scare the creature and it finally twisted its head in an expression of annoyance and stood up from its crouch. It put a forepaw on John's body, like a cat over the mouse's tail, and hissed a warning at them.

With the thing not laying over him, she could see John curled up in a ball with his arms clamped protectively over his head and neck. With a surge of hope, Elizabeth saw him turn his head and shift when the creature stood. She took a few steps closer and managed to land a rock with a resounding thunk on the dragon's head. It spat a dragon curse and shifted ever so slightly, and that was apparently enough for John.

With a ferocious twist, John rolled out from under the paw, drew his sidearm and fired into the dragon's belly that hovered inches over his own. Wounded and thoroughly ticked, the dragon reared up on its hind legs and unfurled its "wings" to their full, ten foot wide spread. It flapped the brightly colorful membrane to keep its balance and screamed a challenge at Elizabeth and Teyla.

But it never completed its threat. As soon as the beast gave up its grip on John, Teyla fired a long burst into its heaving chest. A second sound of gunfire joined Teyla's as John also pumped more rounds into the dragon's belly.

The dragon screamed a single cry of pain, then collapsed.

Elizabeth scrambled to John's side, only a step behind Teyla. John was soaked in blood, but his uniform was torn in so many places, she couldn't tell where the worst wounds were. He holstered his gun, then let his arm flop to the ground.

"Help me get him to his feet. Did you get the door open?" Teyla panted, tugging on John.

"It requires the ATA gene. John has to open it," Elizabeth panted back.

"Sucks to be loved," John whispered as together the two women heaved John to his knees. Each took an arm over their shoulders and together, they managed to get him all the way to his feet. His head hung low over his chest, but he was moving and supporting some of his weight. "Ford? Markham?" he added as they struggled to pull him up the hill towards the porch.

Elizabeth shot a look back down the hill. Ford and Markham had put their backs to a very large tree by the bottom step, but there were three dragons lounging on the staircase. Even as she watched, another dragon sauntered right past the pair of men to pad up the hill...towards them. The four she'd spotted earlier were stalking them, their tails curling, their bodies low and predatory. The largest in the pack stopped to sniff at one of the droplets of blood that fell regularly from his shredded uniform.

"They're at the bottom of the hill," she answered just before the radio in her ear came to life and Ford answered the question unknowingly for himself.

"Sir! Are you alright? Teyla, is the Major Ok?" Elizabeth watched him start back up the hill, but the three dragons lounging on the stairs, shifted at the motion, unfurled their wings and Ford stopped, a football length of dragon-infested hillside between them. "I don't thing we can get to you." She could hear the fury in his voice.

"Jumper?" John whispered. Elizabeth nodded, tapped her earpiece open.

"Lieutenant, the Major is injured, but we believe we can get into the research blind. He wants to know if you can make it back to the jumper."

There was a pause. Elizabeth could imagine the look Ford was sharing with Markham. Neither soldier would leave a comrade easily, so she added, "We'll be fine in the bunker, Lieutenant. But we'll need some backup getting out. Can you make it to the jumper?" Ford's answer was resigned.

"I think so. The ones passing by seem distracted and are ignoring us. Once they get to the stairs, though, they don't seem to want to let us through."

"The outpost is broadcasting a signal that lures them," Elizabeth confirmed. "Make for the jumper. When you get there, fly back to the settlement for reinforcements. We'll wait for you in the outpost."

Elizabeth shot a look at John and saw approval on his face.

"Yes, ma'am. Are you sure the Major is OK?"

"Sure," John grunted.

"He says he's fine," Elizabeth repeated, though she knew her tone wasn't really selling it. "Be careful, Lieutenant. Stay in radio contact. Let us know when you get to the jumper safely."

"Will do."

She tapped her earpiece closed, feeling like they'd been climbing up the hill forever. John's weight dragged on her shoulders, and she was hot and sweaty, despite the evening spring chill.

"We must hurry," Teyla cried from John's other side, and the woman's look was at the pack of dragons following the line of blood John was dripping behind them.

They reached the edge of the blind's porch trailed by stalking, yowling dragons. A ferocious snap from the lead beast crushed Elizabeth's weak hope that maybe the beacon made them friendly, too. Teyla ducked out from under John's arm and fired a burst from her P-90 into the ground right at its nose. It jumped back, but didn't yield its prey.

Elizabeth heaved, and got John to the back by the door. He reached out a bloody hand to brace himself against the side wall, but he had his eyes screwed tightly shut and she wasn't sure even a direct command would get through, so she just grabbed the hand dangling over her shoulder and flopped it over the swipe bar.

She held her breath, hoping it would work. There was a faint chime and a buzz of corroded gears. Teyla had to fire another warning shot as another dragon waved a clawed paw aggressively into the tiny entrance alcove where they huddled. Feeling panicky, Elizabeth swiped John's hand over the bar again and finally, _finally_ there was an answering rumble. The ancient door lurched jerkily sideways to reveal a yawning black chasm beyond. An unsettling smell of mold and dust and _Ancient_ filled her nose.

"Go!" Teyla yelled with one last blast of P-90 fire and grabbed for John's free arm to drag them both into the darkness.

It was like being swallowed alive. Elizabeth watched Teyla feel frantically along side the door's frame and then she heard the same chime as she'd heard the first time she'd tried the door.

"John has to close it," Elizabeth panted.

John shifted of his own accord and reached for the bar. Teyla helped guide his hand and it rumbled shut at his touch. A final, frustrated yowl and a reaching claw scrabbled at the shrinking crack, and then they were plunged into complete, and utter dark.


	3. Chapter 3

Rodney nervously watched a pair of pacing dragons meander a path back and forth just beyond the tree line of the forest that bordered the furthest Athosian fields. Cole stood a couple of meters to one side, the muzzle of his P-90 also swaying side to side as the Sgt. kept the beast in his sights. The sun was low in the west and the fields were growing darker by the moment.

A screeching whoop drifted to them from the next field over and Rodney jerked his head towards the motion sensor's alarm just in time to see one of the dragons dart a few meters into the open only to be driven back by the gunfire of yet another Sgt. on guard. Only a few seconds later the very faint sound of another distant whoop from the other side of the settlement, nearly a klik away drifted over the otherwise still fields.

"I don't like this," Cole muttered at Rodney's shoulder. "I swear these damn things are testing us. Seeing how fast we can respond and how far we're spread out."

As if to prove his point, another alarm whooped in the distance, this time South of the settlement.

"They're smart," Rodney confirmed, yet again glancing at his palm scanner in futile habit. "Not sentient smart, but, you know, street smart. They're setting off the motion sensors deliberately. It's not quite a regular pattern of attack, but it's thorough. We're going to have to tighten the perimeter. We're too spread out and these things are figuring that out."

"If we're going to re-group, we need to do it before dark. Any idea when the Colonel is going to get back? Should we wait?" Cole was sounding a bit tense and kept shooting looks at the darkening sky. Rodney agreed with his concern. It had taken them the better part of the last hour to set up the sensors at this perimeter, and two dragons had found their way almost to the village while they'd been distracted by the process.

"No. We should fall back to the village. Put all of our defenses around the houses and keep everyone bunkered down for the night. I have no idea when Sheppard will be done chasing his Ancient rainbows." It was only partly a selfish recommendation. There was something simply _wrong_ about creatures that refused to show up on his scanner. The fact that he could see the dragons, prowling like overgrown, winged chameleons among the trees, only reinforced their creepiness in Rodney's opinion.

"I agree, doctor."

Cole, who'd been left in charge while Sheppard and Ford were both away, reached for his earpiece, presumably to order the retreat, when the motion sensor they were monitoring blared out its shrill warning.

Rodney jumped and Cole snapped his P-90 into ready position so quickly, that Rodney could have sworn the man had materialized it out of thin air. It was a good thing Cole was a fast draw. The dragon that had tripped the alarm was barreling towards them with long sinuous strides, no longer creeping, no longer startled by the whoops.

Cole fired into the ground in its path and the thing twisted to avoid the puffs of dirt at its feet. The moment it checked its charge, however, _two_ more leaped free of the undergrowth at the forest's borders and bolted in opposite directions across the empty field. More alarms drifted to them, from several places around the village.

"Sgt. Cole! Two just broke through the perimeter." The panicky report blared into Rodney's ear. He was uselessly staring at his scanner again when another voice broke in, almost overlapping the first. "Two just got past us on the southern border!"

"Fall back to the village! Grab the motion sensors if you can. Get everyone into the middle of town and get everyone who can carry a gun or a stick to circle the homes. I want us shoulder to shoulder if we can manage it."

Cole yelled the commands into his microphone and then spat another round of bullets at the dragon who'd first broken the perimeter. The beast unfurled its wings and snarled at them before skulking to one side. Cole pushed it further from the sensor and waved at Rodney.

"Grab the sensor, I'll hold it back."

Rodney gulped, looking warily at the crouching lizard that continued to growl and hiss at them. Fumbling for his own 9 mil, he inched towards the tripod his sensor sat upon, just under the edge of forest canopy. He realized his hands were shaking when he pulled the tripod out of the mud and tried to release the clasp that would collapse the length.

"McKay!"

Rodney jerked his head up at Cole's scream in time to see one more dragon crouched for a leap, almost invisible against the shadows of scrubby bushes and winter-dried weeds. Rodney froze, clutching the pole and staring at its strangely blank eyes. Its haunches waggled and Rodney could see the exact moment it gathered itself for the leap that would knock him down and bite his head off in one smooth motion. He could almost count the teeth as the beast flew through the air and reached for him with gleaming claws.

Just when he was certain he was dead, the dragon twisted mid-leap, shook its head and yowled. Rodney watched, dumbfounded, as it stumbled back to sit on its haunches and yowled again. It swiped at its head with a clawed paw, spat a furious series of hisses, then turned and slunk away into the forest.

Rodney had only a second to start breathing when a second, then a third dragon loped past him to skulk back into the shadows, startling him all over again.

He became aware of himself again when Cole rushed up and grabbed him by the arm, also staring at the retreating dragons. Their radios crackled in their ears.

"Cole, the dragons are retreating! The two we were chasing to the village went all funny and bolted back to the forest. They've all disappeared. Just ran away!"

Rodney looked at Cole, then shrugged. Cole tapped his earpiece.

"Fall back. We'll use the time to set up around the village. But keep your eyes peeled. These things are smart. It could be a trick," Cole replied. The Sergeant looked at Rodney, his expression demanding. "What the hell happened?"

"I have no idea." Rodney sighed, then waved at the shadow of the mountain in the west. "But if I had to bet, my money'd be on Sheppard."

* * *

><p>For a long moment, there was only the sound of breathing and the pounding of her own heart in Elizabeth's ears.<p>

"Light," John growled and Elizabeth finally realized that his arm was still wrapped over her shoulders…and that he seemed to be leaning more and more heavily against her. The sound of rustling and a Velcro flap being pulled drifted to her from John's other side and then a glorious blue-white beam of light turned the nothingness into a chaotic jumble of shadows and highlights. Even in the sudden illumination, though, she only got an impression of a small, cramped space and damp, rocky walls before Teyla broke the uneasy quiet.

"Major, we need to attend your wounds. Sit down against the door. Dr. Weir, remove the Major's vest and jacket."

John must have been hurting because he immediately sank towards the ground at Teyla's command and Elizabeth felt herself pulled into a crouch beside him. His arm slid off her shoulder once his back was propped against the door behind them. Elizabeth fumbled for the zipper on his tac vest, noticed that the clasp that attached to his P-90 was twisted and snapped, then yanked it open with a satisfying zip.

John responded when she asked him to lean forward and the vest was off quicker than she might have expected in the confusing, light-always-moving dimness. Teyla finally stopped opening flaps in her own vest and the flashlight beam steadied on John's torso.

"Oh, boy," Elizabeth breathed at her first real look at John's injuries.

The left arm of John's jacket was nearly in tatters. Long ragged lines of frayed fabric gaped from his shoulder to below the elbow. Most of the edges were dark and glistened redly in the white light. A pair of scratches crossed his cheek, then continued down his neck to disappear under the torn collar of the jacket. His eyes were screwed shut again, and he was breathing quickly with his head lolled back against the door he sprawled against.

"Jacket! Get his jacket off. I have gauze and field compresses out." Teyla must have also been shocked because her voice was thick with distress.

Elizabeth jumped to obey. John again responded when she asked him to lean forward to push the collar over his shoulders, but his movements were stiffer, his reaction time slower. Teyla knelt and probed gently at the soaked fabric of John's long-sleeve undershirt, guiding the flashlight beam from bloody shoulder to tightly clenched fist. She then carefully wiped the beam over the rest of his torso and other arm, abandoning her scrutiny only after gingerly peeling the hem of his shirt up to study his stomach and chest. There were some deep bruises along his left side, but neither claws nor teeth seemed to have pierced the skin.

"His vest protected his chest and back," she announced at last, snatching for a packet of gauze and tearing it open. "He was able to curl up and protect his right side as well. But I am worried about the wounds on his left side."

"Leg hurts," John whispered, listing further towards the right the longer he sat.

With another exclamation of concern, Teyla snapped the light lower. At first, Elizabeth saw nothing – the darker grey fabric didn't seem torn…on the front. Teyla tilted her head, cursed a very unladylike Athosian swear word and touched the underside of John's left leg. Her fingers came away coated in red.

"Lie down, John," Elizabeth ordered, seeing at once that they needed to view the wound and get John's chest lower to slow the bleeding. John just slid along the wall to bump his right shoulder into the cold concrete. A ragged breath was his only admission, but Elizabeth didn't like the way his hands were shaking where he had them clenched against the floor.

Teyla drew a knife from her belt, like the one John also wore, and hacked at the torn fabric. When she had the pant leg split to the hem, she peeled the saturated material from sticky, equally torn, skin. Elizabeth saw two long scratches drawn from mid-thigh to just behind the knee before Teyla slapped a compress over his thigh where the gouges were deep and oozing thickly. A long row of wet spots already darkened the stone floor under the leg.

John groaned once when Teyla cinched the long gauze ties and then went limp. His shoulders collapsed and his forehead dropped to the ground.

"John!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She shook him, but he just sagged more heavily into the ground. "He's unconscious! Teyla...?" She looked at Teyla in horror only to see her own fear reflected in the young woman's face.

"He has lost blood, but I do not believe that is the cause," Teyla answered. "The boy in our village was sleepy and lethargic for a while after he was scratched by one of those creatures. We simply believed that he was young and exhausted by the shock of the attack. But John..." Teyla shrugged, the gesture almost missed in the jumbled lighting.

"John what?" Elizabeth demanded. She was scared and frustrated and wasn't following Teyla's line of thought. And knowing she wasn't keeping up only frustrated her more.

"John is no stranger to pain and fear. I have seen him..." Teyla's voice went tight, "_endure_ great pain and remain both conscious and committed to his surroundings. He would not simply pass out unless there was another factor. I fear the claws of the creatures may contain some venom that subdues its prey. That or he has lost even more blood than we know."

Elizabeth shuddered and slapped her fingers on John's neck, suddenly terrified he might simply stop breathing as suddenly as he'd passed out. Teyla was referring to John's battle with the iratus bug. Elizabeth still had nightmares of listening to John's scream over the radio when the saltwater had provoked it. She still got the shudders when she remembered her desperate feeling of helplessness when all she wanted to do was bring her team home. She'd promised herself she'd never let John or anyone else suffer what he had that day.

"What do we do?"

"Keep him warm. Elevate his legs. Bind his wounds. Monitor his condition." Teyla spoke as if she were reciting a list from a textbook. Elizabeth held her eyes for a long, shared moment of panic. With simultaneous need, they reached for each other and clasped wrists.

"We'll do fine," Elizabeth said at the same moment Teyla murmured, "John is strong. He will survive."

"Yes," Elizabeth added to Teyla's confidence. "Ford and Markham will bring help, soon." She let go of Teyla and shook herself, mentally and physically. "Which reminds me - ." She tapped her earpiece to open the radio. "Lieutenant Ford? This is Weir. Are you at the jumper, yet?"

There was a long tense wait before her earpiece hissed and Ford's voice, sounding faint and crackly, replied.

"Not yet, ma'am. There are lots of these things, but they are all distracted by whatever that outpost is doing to them. We've had a couple try and take a bite, but we were able to persuade them otherwise. What worries me is they are ALL headed your way. Are you sure you're safe in that blind?"

Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Teyla who had already begun to tend to the scrapes on John's shoulder and arm.

"As far as we know. It's built into the mountain, so the dragons aren't going to dig their way in."

"Good. We'll stay in touch. Ford, out."

Elizabeth dropped her hand, reluctant to close the connection. It was comforting to simply hear Ford's voice and know he was OK. She watched Teyla work for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. John grunted softly when Teyla daubed gauze at the scratches on his cheek, but he didn't waken.

A slow anger was gradually replacing the fading panic. _Of all the reckless, headstrong, idiotic..._ Who in their right mind _charged_ an angry dragon? And look where it got him. Passed out on the floor of a bunker they probably didn't need to find anyway.

"I'm going to look around," she announced suddenly. Teyla had John's care well in hand and Elizabeth was feeling too charged up to be particularly tender at the moment. Teyla's look was surprised, but she nodded.

Elizabeth fumbled for a moment with the flaps of her own vest until she found a small flashlight like the one Teyla had wedged under the shoulder of her vest to lay a steady beam on John's body as she worked.

The second flashlight did much to brighten the room, and Elizabeth aimed her light into the brooding darkness that pressed at their backs. The blind was small, perhaps 300 feet square. The walls were bare rock, streaked with dark slime in places from moisture that seeped through layers of ancient stone from the hill over their heads.

A single door led out of the room directly opposite the entrance and a single, piano-like Ancient control panel sat against the rightmost wall under a hanging screen. She saw no wires or cables, but then, the Ancients had been very clever at designing their equipment to get power through the flooring – the ultimate evolution of cell phone mats and electric toothbrush chargers.

The air was cool, but not cold and smelled like every cave Elizabeth had been in. Deciding first things first, she strolled to the control panel and touched it, crossing her fingers that the crystals would glow into life and show her where to turn on the lights. The only change she managed, however, was to draw stripes in the thick dust on the keys. The display in front of her face remained stubbornly dark.

"I'm betting John will have to initialize the controls," she muttered, almost to herself.

"The boy who was scratched slept for over an hour after the attack. I fear John may be affected even longer since he received more contact with the claws. Do you think a cloth with his blood on it will allow us to bring the equipment to life?"

Elizabeth shuddered even while she was impressed with the suggestion. "I don't know, but that's a good idea. We can try it."

Elizabeth next explored the door at the back of the room. Like most of the doors on Atlantis, this one was ornate and beautifully inlaid with stained glass and intricate design. Its civilized beauty seemed completely out of place in the otherwise primitive room.

The swipe bar chimed at her touch, but did not open – yet another task for John when he decided to wake up – so she peered through the slanted panes of colored glass to get a glimpse of what was on the other side. Her light glowed red and gold as she aimed it through the decorative panes, but she couldn't really see anything except what she thought might be a blinking light or two. It figured that the only thing working was the one thing that had annoyed the dragons and turned their hideout into a dragon party.

By the time she had tried the console again, and _again_ with a handkerchief soaked in John's all-too-available blood (an experiment she would never forgive him for), she was thoroughly satisfied that they were really and truly stuck in a 2x3 rock room until he woke up or someone from Atlantis got there first. Teyla finished doctoring John's wounds and was laying a thermal sheet over his shoulders. Elizabeth helped her tuck the ends under his limp shoulders, then slid down to sit cross-legged next to Teyla.

John lay on his back, his feet propped up slightly on his wadded up vest, his head pillowed by his wadded up jacket. Teyla fussed with the blanket for a moment, then chuffed in quiet frustration. Her face was tense in the pale light and she stared at John with a look of deep unease.

"Thank you, Teyla," Elizabeth hastened to reassure, "You've done a marvelous job with first aid."

Teyla just shook her head. "I have treated injuries and wounds for my people since I was a girl. All Athosians learn the art of primary care, what you call First Aid. But since I have spent time among you and in the city of the Ancestors..."

"What?" Elizabeth couldn't fathom the woman's distress.

"All of my skill seems so...simplistic. You have so much more knowledge and technology to offer. I feel very inadequate to the task of team medic."

"I have been so impressed by how much you have picked up in your short time with us, Teyla, but your value to Major Sheppard, and to all of us in this expedition, is the knowledge and experience and skill you already possess. Don't lose yourself trying to be one of us."

Teyla favored her with long thoughtful look before a smile touched the corners of her lips. "That is very good advice, Dr. Weir. I will consider your words carefully."

"Elizabeth, please. Being stuck in a hole in the ground with an unconscious Major surrounded by mind-altered dragons definitely qualifies us for first-name basis."

"Thank you, Elizabeth. I am honored."

Elizabeth shook her head, amused. "So, what now?"

Teyla's face went much more grim than Elizabeth was hoping for. "For now, we wait and watch. I am concerned by the Major's deep sleep."

Elizabeth studied John's quiet face, trying to see what Teyla saw. He wasn't just quiet, she realized, he was completely slack. His chin lolled uncomfortably against his right shoulder, and his breaths were fast and shallow. His face seemed pale, though everything did in the strange lighting. His hair was even more tousled than usual, and damp to the touch. She realized the latter when her fingers brushed an unruly tuft as she reached to check his pulse at his throat.

"His heart is racing," she murmured.

"Yes," Teyla breathed. "I'm am...concerned."

Elizabeth drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around them and dropped her chin. Teyla turned off her light, leaving only Elizabeth's to offer a spot of comfort in the cold, frightening place. She shivered and squashed a sudden urge to shake John and wake him up. He was so...still.

Annoyance melted away and she was overwhelmed by a sudden, terrifying feeling of emptiness. It was the same horror she'd felt watching Carson revive John on the jumper floor after he'd stopped his own heart to get the iratus bug off. As annoying, frustrating, reckless, impulsive, and rebellious as he was, when he was around, she felt...safe. Safe enough to argue. Safe enough to be strong for everyone else.

The realization was as alarming as it was infuriating. As infuriating as it was, she couldn't shake a deep sense of vulnerability as he lay so uncharacteristically quiet.

"I'm concerned, too," Elizabeth whispered.

* * *

><p>Rodney reset the last motion sensor and groaned a great sigh of relief. He really needed to train that Radek guy up on field work so he could spend less time in them. He stomped his shoes against the relatively hard ground to knock some of the last "field" off, then reached wearily for the headset in his ear.<p>

"Cole, the last sensor is up. Have you spotted any dragons near the village, yet?"

"No, doctor. Not a single creature has so much as poked its nose out. We've got a solid perimeter, now, and everyone is accounted for within it. Even if they do come back, they won't get past us."

_That's good_, Rodney thought. He could maybe catch some shuteye in the command center after all. He turned towards the center of the village where the Athosians had built a roaring bonfire. Many were gathered around and Halling had said something about a bar-b-cue. The night was already pitch black – the kind of dark you only got when there was no civilization at all to leak into the sky – and thousands of stars twinkled overhead in crisp brilliance. Rodney was planning on scraping up some well deserved dinner when the whine of an approaching jumper interrupted his stroll.

"So _now _Sheppard shows up. Just in time for dinner and after all the work is done. Figures."

Stomach growling in protest, he turned instead towards the landing pad and propped his shoulder against a tent pole to watch it land. Something about the approach and landing – a bit too steep and a couple of extra bumps along the ground – brought a prickle of alarm to Rodney's neck. Sheppard would never drive his favorite Ancient toy that sloppily unless he was drunk, dying, or not even flying. Respect for a fine piece of technology was one of the few things Rodney shared with the Air Force Major.

Sure enough, when the hatch popped, Ford and Markham bolted out alone looking dusty and disheveled. Ford spotted him first and rushed up.

"Sheppard got mauled by one of those dragon things and he, Teyla, and Dr. Weir are holed up in the research blind. I've called for another jumper and reinforcements to go get them out." Ford finished, turned to leave, then twisted for one last message, "Oh, and Dr. Beckett is coming. That kid that got scratched by the dragon this morning is sick. Would you tell him to find Halling in the gathering tent when the rest get here?"

His brief spat of explanations and orders delivered, Ford jogged away to the command tent and began reorganizing the village guard to prepare for the rescue mission.

"Figures again," Rodney sighed to himself as the whine of another jumper grew louder from the east. "No time for dinner."

* * *

><p>A half hour later and another fifteen minutes of travel time, and the two jumpers were hovering over the mountain wall that Ford assured them the blind was tucked under. The faint line of glowing steps could be seen through leaves and tree branches far below them. Rodney ran every scan he could think of from the co-pilot's seat in the jumper that Markham was piloting, Ford hovering over his shoulder.<p>

"I still get nothing with the sensors. We just aren't going to find these dragons with scanners. Any way to get a visual?"

"How about flares?" Markham suggested timidly. "We can only get as close as the tallest trees, but maybe we could light up the forest floor with flares to see if the creatures are still hanging around the bunker."

Ford looked at McKay who just shrugged. "I got nothing else."

It took a few tries, but in the end, the two jumpers were able to drop about a dozen flares onto the slope near the stairway that led to the blind's door. Markham lowered the craft as far down as he could get and together with Ford and Cole jammed next to him at the cockpit window, Rodney peered through branches and leaves at the glowing red rock below.

Shadows were moving constantly around and over the flarelight. It looked almost like a kind of shadow dance to Rodney. The hillside seethed with motion as dozens and dozens of dragons paced, prowled, and otherwise occupied every foot of space as far as the flares could see.

"So, what do you see? Rodney! Tell me what's going on."

Elizabeth's voice blared over the jumper speaker and Rodney startled, having forgotten that she was listening in to their efforts from inside the mountain itself. He didn't envy her. It looked really dark down there, except for the small pulsing light at the very edge of the blind's porch roof that he could just see as a tiny point between branches.

"I see a lot of dragons, Elizabeth. Maybe as many as a hundred, I don't know. They're completely surrounding the entrance to the blind."

"A hundred?" Elizabeth sounded completely taken aback. Ford shook his head.

"Ma'am, I'm really sorry, but I don't know how we're going to get through that. We can't land the jumpers any closer than before and... well, that's a lot of dragons. In the dark..." Ford's voice trailed off helplessly.

"I...I understand. There has to be something in the research computers that will tell us how to get through. At the very least, we can turn off the beacon that is calling them and hope they go away."

"Have you got the computers up? Can you link me to them?" Rodney pounced, desperate to find another avenue to pursue. Elizabeth's voice was thick with despair.

"No. Major Sheppard is still unconscious. We haven't been able to initialize the computers."

"_Still_?" It was Rodney's turn to be surprised. He'd rarely seen Sheppard _sleep_, let alone remain unconscious for longer than a wraith stunner blast could keep him down. Sheppard was the only man that offered Rodney any competition in the insomnia game and Rodney was surprised a few scratches could take him out so thoroughly.

"Still. We are going to try waking him up a little more...forcefully, but we may just have to wait for the sedative to wear off. He's very...out."

"Keep an eye on him, Elizabeth. That kid that got scratched in the village is running a fever. I'll stay here in the jumper with Ford. We're not close, but we're closer than the village. Worst case, we can try something in the morning. Maybe these things sleep during the day. Otherwise, for now, it's up to you."

"Understood. Weir out. For now."

"I'm sorry," Rodney blurted, then added the more formal, "Jumper 2, out." He sagged against his seat as Markham took the jumper higher and set an auto-hover program. Ford ordered the 2nd jumper back to the village to help with the patrol. "For now."


	4. Chapter 4

"Damn," Elizabeth whispered. She dropped her head briefly on her knees and took a few deep breaths before she impulsively put her hand on John's forehead. He was cool to her touch and she sighed in relief. "No fever. But I think we need to try to wake him. We need to get that computer on."

"Very well." Teyla stretched from where she sat in an easy slouch against the door and shifted to her knees beside John's head. Elizabeth touched his shoulder – the undamaged one – and shook him slightly, then more firmly.

"John," she called, trying for firm but considerate. "John, you need to wake up."

"Major, we are concerned for your well being. Please wake so we will know you are not in danger." Teyla added a gentle pat to the unscratched cheek to her plea.

Both women poked and called and jostled him for several minutes before John reacted at all, and that was only with soft groan. They shared a look of hope and increased their efforts. After a few more groans, but little more progress towards wakefulness, Elizabeth got a sudden idea and fumbled for the small canteen that she had set aside from where it dangled off her vest. She poured a handful of cold water in her hand and with a sheepish grin at Teyla, flicked it over John's face.

His reaction was rather more impressive than she expected. When the drops hit his face, John bolted upright, one hand scraping at the water, the other flung out and swinging blindly. Elizabeth ducked and toppled backwards.

John's sudden vertical position was short lived. Just as quick as he'd sat up, he flopped back to the floor and clutched at his scored leg, low growls accompanying each fast, panting breath. Teyla was quickest to recover.

"Major, you are safe. You have been injured by the dragons, but we are safe in the research blind. We have bound your wounds."

John quieted and Elizabeth saw him finally draw several deep deliberate breaths. "John? Are...are you awake?"

"That depends," he growled, his voice soft but strained. "Are my bacon and eggs ready?"

"Sorry, John. No bacon and eggs. Just a dark room and a computer that needs your attention."

"Coffee?" he slurred.

"Nope."

"Then I'm not awake. Call me in the morning." He curled up as if he really was about to drop off again, so Elizabeth shook his shoulder.

"Not yet, John. We need you to initialize the console in here and open the door to the machine room. If you don't, we're stuck until morning and there still won't be any eggs or coffee."

John sighed, a long deep sound of resignation, and then he abruptly shoved himself upright again and propped his back against the door he'd been lying beside. Teyla was quick to offer him a hand, and then a sip of water from her own canteen. Elizabeth looked him over while he allowed Teyla to next inspect his bandages.

Several of pads of gauze were soaked through, as if the wounds underneath were still seeping. John was breathing fast through clenched teeth, and his left arm dangled limply in his lap. He shifted, readjusting his damaged leg, and she saw him wince. His face was suddenly beaded with sweat and Elizabeth winced with him, feeling guilty for waking him into the pain.

"How do you feel, Major?" Teyla asked, adding more gauze to the soggiest of the bandages on his arm. Her tone was casual, but she threw a worried glance at Elizabeth.

"Kind of woozy," John said, surprising Elizabeth with his candor. "Leg is pretty damn uncomfortable. Not 'bug stuck to my neck' bad, though, so I'll call it manageable."

"Very well. Take this and then drink some more water before you try to stand."

John simply nodded and took the tablets of pain killer Teyla offered him, swallowing them down with a swig from the canteen. He rolled his head back against the wall again, and swallowed hard a few more times.

"Nauseous?" Elizabeth asked. John just nodded. She wished she could just let him sleep (now that she knew he _could_ wake up) but he was the only one who could get them to the next step. She went for compromise. "Get the computer started, then you can lie down again if you want."

"Always a catch," he muttered, then with a last deep breath, he reached for Teyla's shoulders and allowed her to pull him awkwardly to his feet. It suddenly hit Elizabeth that she rarely saw John with his team on Atlantis. They tended to go their own ways during their time at home. But here was a unique peek into their dynamic offworld. She found herself surprised and impressed with John's trust and dependence on Teyla, who he seemed to consider just one of the guys. And maybe just a bit envious. She felt like she'd been at odds with the man for months.

Elizabeth held the light while Teyla supported John, hopping every step, towards the console. His hands were shaking when he reached for a crystal key. When a light tap had no effect, he spread his palm against the topmost key and leaned heavily into it. Elizabeth held her breath until the panel finally blinked, then warmed their faces with a dim, orange glow. The screen over the panel flickered once, then went dark again.

"Power's low," John murmured. "Not enough juice to run the screen."

Barely enough to run the console, too, Elizabeth thought, but didn't voice the worry. They'd brought a generator with them, but it was still in the jumper.

"Let's try the machine room. Maybe we can divert power from the beacon into the panel instead."

Again, John just nodded and moved slowly towards the closed door in the back of the room. Gratefully, it opened with a single touch and Elizabeth's flashlight swept over a couple of racks of what passed for Ancient servers and a panel that usually indicated power. She couldn't fathom the source, Ancient D-cell batteries most likely, but she did understand the blinking red light all too well.

John straightened, and shrugged off their help to poke at the panel. Elizabeth let John and Teyla figure out the power and wandered over to the bank of computers. Everything was grimy, but it was drier in here. One unit looked different than the others, and had cables wired into the floor and wall behind.

"I think this might be the beacon," she called over her shoulder. "Should I turn it off, here?"

There was no immediate answer and she looked back at John who was studying the innards of the power panel, having somehow figured out how to open the front cover. Teyla was shining the light on the crystals and delicate wires that filled the cabinet.

"Go ahead and try it," he said at last. "From what I can see, the beacon gets priority over the database. Probably because it comes on automatically," he poked at a crystal and added with a sarcastic grumble, "conveniently for us."

Elizabeth gave the beacon unit one last onceover, then started poking buttons and pulling crystals. On the third crystal, the indicator lights went dark. John grunted in satisfaction at the same time. "That helped. I can probably get enough power to run the console, at least. The screen is a different story. Help me back in there."

They had just reached the control panel in the main room when an ominous thump against the outside door and a hair-raising caterwauling drifted to them. Teyla shoved John at Elizabeth, grabbed her weapon from the floor beside the door and put her ear against it. Another thump startled her and Elizabeth could see her ready the weapon before calling over her shoulder.

"There is a great commotion outside! The dragons are either attacking the blind or they are fighting among themselves."

"We need this thing up," John stated grimly and Elizabeth found herself holding him while he started furiously slapping at the console, wiping dust from his fingers onto his pants after every other touch. The lights under the crystals looked much brighter, but the screen remained stubbornly dark with the exception of a few pitiful flashes.

"Elizabeth, get your tablet out. We can wire it into the console and use it as our screen. Bring all the cables McKay sent with you, too."

Elizabeth let go of John and turned to obey, such was the haste in John's tone, but she hadn't taken a step when John began to sag. He jammed his palms into the keyboard to steady himself and Elizabeth threw her arms back around his waist, fearful his good leg would give out on him, too. She became suddenly aware of his solid warmth under her hands. Pressed close to his side, she could hear the slight hitch in his breath he was managing to otherwise conceal, and she felt a tremor run the length of his long, wiry frame.

"Crap," he whispered, very softly. And then more firmly, "I got it. Go get the tablet." He stiffened, bracing himself to stand alone.

Elizabeth let go slowly this time and John didn't waver, so she dashed to where she'd dropped the pack that held the laptop. The sound of screeching and hissing was much louder by the door and she shared a nervous look with Teyla who remained on guard before lugging the whole pack back to John.

"Set the tablet out, then hand me the cables," John demanded without preamble.

In just a few moments, he had the console connected to Rodney's computer. Data scrolled over the screen, and his gaze flicked constantly between the keys in front of him and the images.

"When did you learn to do that?" Elizabeth asked, unable to contain her curiosity. From what she'd observed, John was more a man of action than tech support. He just shrugged.

"I don't know. Picked it up from McKay, I guess."

Elizabeth nodded, more puzzled than before. She could have made the connection, but it probably would have taken her longer to figure out. Had John really just 'picked it up' by watching Rodney? That implied both a level of observation and intellect that she hadn't assumed. However he learned it, he seemed to find what he was looking for. He hopped closer, pointed at the tablet's screen.

"This is the file on the dragon research – nice translation by the way. Can you read through it? As Rodney said, my Ancient is good but…" he trailed off with a wry grin. Elizabeth looked at his face closely, wondering if he were making an apology of sorts. Instead, his expression was pinched and he was leaning heavily against the keys. She realized that his willingness to let her read had more to do with needing to rest than admitting unfamiliarity.

"I'll start digging. Why don't you sit down for a while," she said as casually as she could muster, playing along.

In the end, she helped him lower himself against the wall next to the console. Once down, he immediately dropped his head onto his good knee and squirmed, leaning away from the scratched up side. He waved off her attempt to fuss over his bandages, so she threw herself into the Ancient text with the singular goal of finding something that would get them out of this hole and keep the dragons away long enough to get John into a jumper.

Teyla joined her a few minutes into her reading.

"Is there a way to see outside the blind," Teyla whispered, throwing furtive looks at John as if she didn't want him to hear. "There continues to be a lot of noise and activity outside. I am concerned that by turning off the beacon, the dragons have become even more aggressive."

"Try the console," Elizabeth suggested and opened another window to view the commands. Teyla poked at keys while Elizabeth concentrated on the tiny text on the shared screen.

"I believe I have found an exterior camera!" Teyla exclaimed. "May I interrupt your reading to activate the image?"

"Of course!" At the very least it might let them know if the dragons were leaving, no longer compelled by the beacon to approach. A dim, blurry image filled the screen. Teyla touched a few more keys, and the image brightened, looking like nothing more than a black and white security camera. Full night had fallen over the forest outside, so the camera was using a mode that enhanced low-light.

Despite the grainy quality, the image was a mass of motion.

"Rodney wasn't kidding," Elizabeth breathed.

Dozens of dragons prowled in and out of the camera's range. Most had their wings half-unfurled, a posture that looked aggressive to Elizabeth. As they watched, two of the larger dragons exchanged a series of yowls that they could also hear through the door. With abrupt violence, they reared up on their hind legs and lunged for each other, spreading their wings to full width and striking out with fore claws in ferocious battle. Even without knowing anything about their biology yet, Elizabeth could guess that the two were males and were battling for either females or territory.

"Territory!" Elizabeth breathed suddenly. Teyla threw her a look. "What I've read so far says the dragons are territorial, living in prides of a single male and several females. The beacon gathered them all into one place and they are suddenly in each other's territory. They're fighting because they don't know how they got here and who's land they're on."

"Great," John growled, to the surprise of the women who hadn't realized he was really listening in. He'd been sitting quietly with his eyes closed and Elizabeth had rather assumed he was close to sleep. "We turn the beacon off they all go Lion King on us. We turn it on, they don't ever leave. Swell."

That did sum up the problem, Elizabeth admitted.

"So, how do we get past them?" Teyla demanded. Before Elizabeth could even begin to formulate an answer to that question, a quiet voice in her ear distracted her.

"Elizabeth, is Sheppard off radio?" She was confused until she realized it was Rodney calling her over the radio.

"Yes, Rodney, go ahead," she replied, tapping open the connection and sharing a furtive look with Teyla who _was_ listening in. They had taken John's earpiece out when they removed his vest, and he was lolling against the wall with his eyes closed again, unaware.

"Good. We just got a call from Beckett at the settlement. The boy who was attacked by the dragons earlier today has developed a systemic bacterial infection from the scratches, most likely a natural predatory advantage. Beckett is taking him back to Atlantis and he thinks a series of intravenous antibiotics will take care of it, but he's worried about Sheppard."

Rodney stopped, but the question in his voice was clear.

"John's conscious. We got the database initialized and the beacon that's calling the dragons turned off. But that has caused other…complications."

"We know. Sheppard linked the research database to Atlantis. Grodin is going through the technical information on the hopes that we might be able to reproduce the beacon and call the dragons _away_ from you."

"Oh." Elizabeth hadn't realized that John had done so much in his brief time at the console. She felt a slow blush of shame that she hadn't even _thought_ about linking back to Atlantis. Some damn fine field operative she was turning out to be.

"But that could take time. Beckett says that the sooner we start Sheppard on antibiotics, the better. We'll concentrate on the tech, but you need to keep looking for something in the biology data – we're having a lot of translation issues with that part. We need something that we can use to scare them off, temporarily stun them, anything. Something that will let you through long enough to get you out."

"I'm…working on it," Elizabeth answered, furiously poking at the tablet to open the database again. "There's got to be something in there. I…I'll find it. Just give me a few more…" she trailed off, frustrated, scared and angry at herself for feeling all of the above.

"We're working on it, too. Just keep an eye on Sheppard. McKay out."

Elizabeth slapped the connection closed and stared blankly at the screen, trying to process yet another problem on top of all the others.

"What'd McKay say?" John prompted, though he kept his eyes closed.

"He and Peter are working on how to lure the dragons away from here. I'm…trying to find something in the biological data that might help," she snapped, fear escaping as annoyance.

"You're doing great. Just keep looking," was John's quiet response.

Teyla murmured similar reassurance, though her expression was severe. She guessed at the cause when Teyla knelt beside John and felt his pulse, then laid a hand on his forehead before he weakly swatted it away.

She'd wanted to help, she thought as she began slogging through the unfamiliar vocabulary and pages and pages of useless details. She hadn't really expected to end up with John's life in her hands. She _had _to find something. She just _had _to! Because, this time, if John didn't make it home alive…it would be no one's fault but her own.

* * *

><p>The next hour was excruciating. Elizabeth felt like she was reading through molasses. Every paragraph was a struggle to interpret, and yet, she was afraid to skim, afraid she'd miss something. Teyla roamed the room, alternately checking on John – who'd gone pretty quiet – and checking on the door. Yowls and thumps continued to invade their hideout that was, otherwise, deathly still.<p>

Elizabeth waded through a spat of jargon only to realize the Ancients were talking about the dragons' droppings. She shoved the tablet away from her in a flare of frustration and yelled out, "Shit!" before she could catch herself.

Teyla jerked her head and moved close, concern and worry clear in her expression even in the dim lighting. John shifted, reacting to the sound or her anger. Elizabeth took a hasty breath.

"Sorry. Sorry. I just spent five minutes translating the word. Kind of got to me."

"What word?" Teyla was all soft concern.

"Well, _shit_. It just took me five minutes to figure out the Ancient word for dragon feces." Once she admitted it out loud, she felt ridiculous. Her face burned with embarrassment. Teyla looked puzzled, but John's low chuckle pulled her out of her mortification.

"_That_ is funny," he added after another chuckle. "Anything we should know about dragon crap?" He took a deep breath and with an effort that was alarming, he straightened, and tried to sit more upright against the wall. They were conserving battery life again, but she could see that his face was slick with perspiration again, and that he was curled around himself, as if chilled.

"No." She sighed, fighting hopelessness. Rodney hadn't called back, offering her a magic solution and she felt the weight of responsibility on her head like a pile of rocks. A whole, dragon-infested, mountain-sized pile of rocks. "I should keep digging."

"You should start talking," was John's light retort. "Tell us what you've learned so far."

"I don't think..."

"Look, Elizabeth, you're frustrated and tired. In this state, you wouldn't spot a solution if it bit you on the ass. If you back off for a bit, process what you've learned, something might click. For any of us. Teyla's had lots of experience hunting. She knows a lot more about animals than either of us put together. And I..."

At that, John paused, as if having trouble thinking of something he was good at. The modesty was surprisingly genuine, and Elizabeth couldn't believe that the stubborn, know-it-all man she'd so recently butted heads with had such a deep streak of self doubt.

"I'm good at shooting things. The point is, talk it out."

"I would welcome hearing what you've learned, Elizabeth," Teyla added. "The more I understand about these creatures, the more I can protect my people."

"Okay. So, let's talk then."

Elizabeth sat cross-legged facing John, and Teyla folded herself into a comfortable pose to complete the circle. Elizabeth talked for a long time, referring to the tablet to remind herself of details. Teyla asked many questions, and Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the young woman's insatiable curiosity. There was no doubt why Teyla had adapted to their customs and technology so quickly – she was bright and possessed a thirst for knowledge.

In the end, though, they worked through everything she'd read so far – everything from what the dragons ate, to how they hunted, to how the Ancients were breeding them to strengthen their natural ability to defy sensors, and yes, to their feces. Nothing seemed to be anything but what it was: interesting but useless facts about an interesting but useless experiment started 10,000 years ago. A weary silence fell over the dark room. Elizabeth scrubbed her eyes.

"I'm sorry. Told you it was all gibberish."

"No way to talk to them," John whispered, his voice the most discouraged she'd heard him get. In the half hour or so they'd been talking, John had grown, if possible, even more flushed. She looked at him in deep concern and just caught a shiver ripple across his shoulders. He _was_ starting fever. She had no doubt about that, now.

"They wanted to talk to them," she blurted, desperate to fill the emptiness, even with gibberish. "The Ancients, I mean. One of the reasons they picked these creatures to breed, aside from the stealth characteristics, was that the originals had evolved a primitive form of telepathy. Most likely as a hunting technique. The females could communicate simple tactics silently. The Ancients were breeding animals that communicated on a mental frequency that interfaced with the ATA gene."

Teyla's eyes went wide and disbelieving, but John went suddenly very still, very focused.

"The Ancestors wanted to command these beasts like the Major commands the jumper, or the consoles on Atlantis? They believed they could control those monsters with touch?" Teyla was almost chuckling with her skepticism and Elizabeth shrugged, also amused.

"Well, they were smaller, then. But like their dreams of breeding them to add invisibility to their stealth traits, that one was also left unrealized."

"Was it?" John demanded, and Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at his serious tone. "Were the dragons able to communicate with the Ancients at all before they sank the city?"

"Um, well, they'd gotten as far as strengthening the correct frequency so that most of their colony used it to 'talk' to each other. And there was a note about how a few specific dragons in the original herd were responding to mental training. But no, they weren't talking to the dragons."

Elizabeth was puzzled by John's intensity on the topic, so she pressed a little, wondering what he was thinking. "Do you think we could use their telepathy to scare them off? Send them a 'fear' message or something?"

John's face went neutral and the hair on Elizabeth's neck prickled. "Something. I was thinking that _I_ could try talking to one. I've got the ATA gene. But I like your idea, too, Elizabeth. I could tell it to 'run' or 'get away' or something and hope it communicates the fear to the others long enough for us to make a break for the jumper. Ford will back us up."

Teyla frowned deeply. "But to communicate that way, you must certainly have to touch it!"

"Well, I didn't say it would be easy to talk to."

"No. That's out of the question." Elizabeth felt her gut twist and she kept seeing him being savaged by the dragon on the hill.

"Elizabeth," John began, but she cut him off.

"No. And that's final. We'll find another way. A _real_ way to get out of here." She slapped at her earpiece, shoved herself to her feet to avoid John's glare. "Rodney, this is Elizabeth, come in. What's your progress on luring the dragons away?"

"Elizabeth, I was just about to call you." Rodney yawned loudly into the receiver before he continued. "We're just about ready to try our own version of the beacon. We've reproduced most of the frequencies and harmonics it was broadcasting, but there are some we just don't have the equipment to broadcast ourselves. The research blind must have dedicated equipment. Hopefully those missing frequencies won't impact the results too badly."

"That's great!" Elizabeth exclaimed, feeling her chest lighten for the first time in hours. "Really great. When can you turn on the decoy lure?" She turned back to John so he would be sure to hear. _No crazy dragon-talking plans, today, mister_, she thought with some satisfaction. Today they got to do it her way. With patience and the _support_ of her team.

"I've sent the 2nd jumper to just over the hill from you, but still a good dozen miles away. They'll begin broadcasting when they get into position. If it works, Markham can land the jumper where we landed before and we'll come get you out."

"We'll monitor the pack from here and let you know when they've left." Elizabeth took the confident stance, both to show John that she expected Rodney's plan to work, and to reassure herself.

"Sounds good." There was a pause. When Rodney spoke again he sounded half annoyed, half worried. "Carson's pestering me about Sheppard again. He wants to know if you've noticed signs of fever."

"Carson's on the jumper?"

"No, of course not. He's on Atlantis with the kid. But he's been, um _regularly_ checking in via radio." There was another pause. "I _am_ asking them, Carson. Would you give me a minute to let them answer? Oh, for crying out loud. I'm patching you through directly. YOU ask them."

Elizabeth shared a bemused look with Teyla when, sure enough, Carson's voice was the next they heard.

"Elizabeth, lass. I need an _accurate_ update on the Major's injuries. Can ya tell me more about his injuries? Any symptoms of infection?"

Elizabeth waved to Teyla, encouraging her to answer. The grim tone of her voice startled Elizabeth. Immersed in her furious reading, she'd not realized how worried the younger woman had become. Teyla spoke with a tone that was almost relief, as if very grateful for the doctor's advice.

"Dr. Beckett, the Major has sustained deep wounds in his left leg and left arm and shoulder. The wounds are still seeping and showing signs of inflammation. The Major's temperature has risen significantly in the past hour. I have never seen wounds bleed without clotting for so long, nor become infected so quickly."

John jerked his head to stare at Teyla, that look of keen calculation firmly plastered over his expression. Though he couldn't hear Carson's side of the conversation, he was clearly putting things together. Elizabeth bit her lips. She hadn't withheld Carson's concerns out of fear that John would panic, she'd withheld it because she feared the information would, ironically, keep him from resting to pursue more dramatic options – like trying to talk to the damn things.

Carson and Teyla spoke for several more minutes. By the time the doctor had reminded them three times to make John drink as much water as possible, Rodney announced that the jumper was in position and had started broadcasting the beacon lure.

Carson signed off, Teyla bent to fuss over a very wary John and Elizabeth busied herself bringing up the outside camera, hoping against hope that she'd see the dragons outside flapping their heads and bolting over the other side of the mountain, far away from them.

"Elizabeth, if this works, we'll land as fast as we can and we'll take Sheppard directly to Atlantis, but Carson keeps going on about septic shock and organ failure and, well, you might consider a more...offensive approach if this doesn't work."

"Offensive?"

"I'm sure Sheppard has at least one grenade on him. And Markham's getting pretty good at drone target practice."

"I see," Elizabeth swallowed hard. Despite her dislike of the dragons, she disliked the thought of slaughtering them, too. But Rodney was right. The longer they waited, the longer John was without antibiotics and Carson's attentive monitoring. "Have Markham draw up an _offensive_ plan, just in case."

"I will. McKay out."

Elizabeth also tapped her earpiece closed and fiddled with the exterior camera settings a bit. The swarm of dragons looked almost like swarms of ants on the hillside. A tingle shivered down her neck, and a feeling of being watched grew to uncomfortable levels until she finally jerked around and snapped, "What!"

It was John, glaring as if he could kill with his eyes.

"So, what's up _really_?" he demanded at last. "You two are damn chatty with Beckett all of a sudden. And Teyla, here, is practically hovering." Teyla cringed, a guilty look on her face.

Elizabeth decided against deflecting the question any further. John's expression had gone from wary to ticked, and they needed him to stay calm. She left the screen, plopped back down on the floor facing him again, and rested a hand on his undamaged shin.

"The boy who was attacked by the dragons has developed a serious bacterial infection as a result of the wounds. Beckett is worried about...anyone...who comes in contact with those claws."

"Is the kid ok?" John asked first, his voice troubled, though his face remained stern. It was Teyla who answered, and Elizabeth got the impression that she was touched by John's query.

"Beckett seemed confident that treatment with antibiotics on Atlantis would make him well. It is you we are concerned for."

John glared for a moment longer, then simply deflated. He rolled his head back against the wall. "I knew I felt like crap. Kind of nice to know why." The last was delivered with just a hint of accusation.

"We'll be out of here soon. Rodney's decoy beacon is broadcasting. All we have to do is wait for it to lure the dragons away from here, and we'll go home." Elizabeth hastened to encourage him.

"That's all, huh?" John breathed, quietly sarcastic.

"Yes. That's all," Elizabeth stated confidently, because she believed it. She had to believe it. "It will work. It has to."

She stretched to pull the laptop into her lap, jammed her chin into her hand and stared at the screen. John closed his eyes, then shivered.

"Then we'll wait," he whispered.

* * *

><p>They waited. And waited some more. Outside the blind, dragons continued to snarl and howl. Inside, John got sicker and sicker. Elizabeth threw herself back into the research database, concentrating on the biology that might indicate how the claws delivered their venom and looking to see if the Ancients had developed an antidote, or antibacterial that would work faster than their own medicines.<p>

When John began to shiver continuously and finally asked for help to get warm, she helped Teyla wrap him in his torn jacket and every thermal sheet they could find in their kits. Teyla put a hot chemical pack in his hands under the blankets, and a cold chemical pack on his head. He sat against the wall, huddled under his covers, his head slumped onto his good knee he had drawn up against his chest. Teyla had asked him to lie down many times and he'd stubbornly refused. The fact that he didn't even joke or act embarrassed about his current impression of a refugee, though, sank a deep knot of worry into Elizabeth's gut.

Exactly an hour after Rodney had turned on the lure, Elizabeth shoved the tablet off her lap and slapped at her radio.

"Rodney! There are still dozens of dragons, here. Is your beacon on? Why the hell isn't it working?" Rodney's answer was apologetic.

"It's on. It's just not particularly effective, apparently. We have about a dozen dragons sniffing around at the jumper, but considering the original beacon was able to call them from as far as the settlement, ours is clearly not working. I have to assume it's because of those missing frequencies. They must be critical to either the delivery or in eliciting the correct response."

A sudden thought nudged at Elizabeth's memory. "Rodney, those missing frequencies. Would they be related at all to ATA mental transmission frequencies?"

There was a long pause. "How did you manage to figure that one out?" he asked, sounding shaken. Elizabeth just sighed, unable to even enjoy the moment.

"It's in the research. The Ancients were experimenting with how to communicate on the dragons' natural telepathic frequencies and interface it with ATA gene."

"Looks like that part was a success. I'm betting the beacon taps into their telepathic receptors."

"How... How do you...say...scram?" John panted, surprising Elizabeth. He unwrapped a bundled hand to point to his ear. "Got...tired of missing the...party," he rasped. Sure enough, his radio receiver was back in his ear and his look was determined. In a pale and sweaty kind of way.

"Sheppard?" Rodney sounded even more flummoxed, and worried. "Well, even if we could find the right vocabulary to shoo our dragon friends, we don't have a way to transmit it. The jumpers weren't designed for the kind of frequency manipulation we're talking about. And we certainly didn't bring anything from Earth that can do it."

"This beacon can do it," John insisted. "We can broadcast 'shoo' from here."

Elizabeth studied John for a long moment. It was a good idea. A great idea, in fact, _if_ Rodney were there to make the changes. _If_ she could be certain it would work. And _if _it wouldn't take forever to figure out. She'd already waited too long. She'd already risked John's health longer than the dragons deserved.

"It's a good idea, but we don't have any more time. Rodney, does Markham have his plan ready?"

"I suppose. We can fire drones at the hillside and hope we don't bury you. That will hopefully scare them off. Then, we'll cram two teams of Marines into the other jumper. We figure a team of eight can surely get you out. That will still leave four at the settlement. A couple of the things made their way back after you turned off the beacon."

"How...many left?" John asked.

"We have no way of knowing," was Rodney's unhelpful answer.

"I can see a couple of dozen on the steps. The fighting seems to be centered east of the steps, where the one got you," Elizabeth added, then made her decision. "Rodney, execute the plan. Fire drones at the dragon colony and send the Marines to get us. We're done waiting. We need to get John to Carson."

"Okay. I guess...Okay.

"Wait, Rodney." John was squirming again, fighting to get himself more upright. "Tell Markham...not to hit the blind. Stick to warning fire below and to either side."

"I think he's got 'don't blow you up' figured out, Sheppard."

"NO. Listen. We can't damage the beacon. Need it to keep the dragons away from the settlement."

"We'll come up with something-" Elizabeth began, but John cut her off.

"Stay away from the beacon, Markham. That's an order. Give us a heads up when you're ready to launch drones. Sheppard out."

"We'll see you soon," Rodney answered and the line went silent.

John squirmed some more, threw off his blankets and began to brace against the wall, trying to stand. Elizabeth and Teyla were so surprised, they just watched until he'd gotten himself up on his good leg and paused, braced against the wall, for a moment to take several deep breaths.

"What are you doing?" Teyla asked at last.

"Help me...to the beacon," he panted, then leaned for the console, indicating that he was going to get there with or with_out_ help. Teyla scrambled to obey, and, with his arm again around her shoulders, he was soon hopping towards the machine room.

"John...what-?" Elizabeth began, but again he interrupted her, which raised her hackles.

"I'm going to see if I can modify the beacon while McKay and Ford ready the strike team. What's the Ancient word for 'go away'?"

"Schule." The word popped out before she could think about whether or not she _wanted_ to answer him.

John stopped hobbling, twisted to stare at her with raised eyebrow. "Really? The Ancient word for shoois _shoo? _I'll be damned." Elizabeth opened her mouth, uncertain that what was going to come out would be considered very polite when John just turned his back. "Bring the computer," he added just before he passed through the machine room door.

Elizabeth cussed loudly in her mind. Called John as many names as she could think of, and they all started with _stubborn_. But she got the computer. And she watched him open the beacon panel and begin to mess around inside it. She didn't understand...but she did it.

* * *

><p>Rodney fidgeted, unholstered his 9 mil, re-holstered it, then wiped sweaty hands on his palms. Shadows of tree limbs scrolled by the windshield in front of him, looming out of the complete nothingness and disappearing into it again as Markham lowered the jumper slowly onto the forest floor. There was a constant screeching of bark against hull and Rodney had to resist the temptation to run a diagnostic. At least he was sure this was the place they had landed before. Only Sheppard would consider the hole made by a single fallen tree "open".<p>

Behind him, the jumper was loud with the sounds of heavily geared men rustling and chatting softly. Six Marines filled the back benches along with enough firepower to fight, well, to fight a herd of dragons. They would be packed in again once they added Elizabeth, Teyla, and Sheppard, but it was an inconvenience he was sure they'd endure to get out of the mountain.

The back hatch lowered, almost the instant Markham touched down. The dark of the forest outside was almost as deep as space itself, and Rodney had a bad moment when he followed Ford down the hatch. Even from this distance, they could hear the yowling and fighting of the dragon colony that surrounded the blind.

"Maybe I should stay with the jumper," he squeaked at last, when a particularly mournful howl drew shivers down his spine.

"Suck it up, McKay," was Ford's cheerful answer. Well, as cheerful as Ford ever got. "We might need tech support at the research blind. You're coming. Jumper 2, begin suppression fire at the target." With that, he waved the squad forward and the group began to jog towards the chaos as quickly as terrain and flashlights would allow.

Rodney hesitated only as long as it took him to realize that if he didn't follow, quickly, he'd be standing in a dragon-infested forest alone. Shoving at the jumper remote, he juggled his flashlight and his handgun and took off after the rest, leaving the hatch to close on its own.


	5. Chapter 5

Elizabeth paced outside the machine room. Whatever John was doing, Elizabeth had lost track of the number of times he'd swapped crystals and uploaded new programs from the tablet into the beacon's databank.

"What if you trigger something that makes them aggressive?" she called, adding one more worry to her list of concerns. Like all the others she'd tossed at him, John just ignored her and kept tinkering. Teyla stood, braced against him, holding him upright as he worked. She looked as exasperated as Elizabeth felt, but unlike Elizabeth, she helped without comment, simply taking on more of John's weight the longer they stood.

Elizabeth paced faster. Seeing him stand there, so obviously sick, was killing her. She didn't even disagree with what he was doing. It worked or it didn't. But either way, Ford and Markham were coming for them. Why, when he was so obviously hurting, why make the effort?

"Dr. Weir, this is Walker in jumper 2. We just got the order to begin fire on the dragons at your location. Stay inside the bunker."

"Understood. Go ahead. We're fine."

"Avoid the beacon, Sergeant," John rasped.

"Yes, sir. Beginning drone fire, now."

An explosion of sound and a rumble against their feet proved Walker's words. Elizabeth braced herself against the doorframe. Teyla threw an arm out to brace against the wall of servers, desperately hanging on to John with her other arm. A few pebbles of rock broke free from the ceiling to bounce against the server casings.

"We need to see outside!" Elizabeth called, finally deciding that enough was enough. "John, we need the tablet back on the console to monitor the stairs. Ford will be coming soon."

John just yanked the tablet off the beacon panel and handed it to her, wires and all, but he didn't turn to leave. "Here. Check the cameras and relay what you see to Ford. I'm almost done."

"Done with what? What did you change the beacon to say?"

"I...uh, I don't know exactly. There seem to be a dozen or so pre-programmed commands. They were further along on the talking thing than we guessed, apparently."

Elizabeth felt a shock of embarrassment, "The records, they didn't..." _how could she have missed something like that?_

"They did, but you missed it because the Ancients were stupid and left too much to assumption. The beacon command that broadcasts by default is _come_. We figured that. There are others that seem to be similar – so maybe they only called certain animals or only females, or something like that. I've set the beacon to broadcast what I'm hoping is _move along_. If I'm reading the logs correctly, they used it each time they were finished with a group of dragons and before they reset the automatic sensors for _come_ again."

"But what if -."

"Cameras, Elizabeth. Go check the cameras."

Elizabeth scurried to the console, hastily plugged in the tablet, and keyed the outside camera, all the while feeling her face burn. John didn't need her in the field. He needed a dose of common sense with an extra-large helping of self-preservation. But he didn't need her. She should have figured out the beacon's options far sooner.

On the tablet's screen, which was growing worryingly low on battery life, the image whited out at the same time another drone blast rumbled their shelter. Eventually, the strange night-vision scene appeared again. It seemed brighter outside, most likely from fires set by the explosions, and the hillside wasn't seething with motion. Her heart leaped when she realized that there were many fewer dragons in sight, and the ones that were visible, were crouched together, huddled into packs with heads swaying in distress at the noise and light.

Just as quickly, her heart sank when she realized that the groups that remained still numbered around a couple dozen or more. Several were huddled on the steps themselves, looking like giant stone lumps against the faint glow. The jumper made one more pass at the mountain, then Ford's voice crackled in her ear.

"Cease fire, Walker. We're almost to the blind. Dr. Weir, can you see any dragons from there?"

"Yes, lieutenant. Unfortunately I can. There are at least six on the stairs. A few more groups decided to huddle up rather than bolt. Be advised, there are still several dragons in the area."

She could almost hear Ford's sigh. "No kidding. We've got grenades and flashbangs. We'll scare the rest away if we need to. Ford out."

That sounded fine to Elizabeth. She was sick to death of worry and the dark and nothing going the right way that day. "John, Teyla! Let's go. Ford's almost here."

"Elizabeth!"

Teyla's cry had Elizabeth leaping towards the machine room before she even realized she was moving. Teyla had her arms wrapped around John, who had his hands clamped around his head and was twitching from what could only be a mild seizure. Elizabeth snatched for him just as Teyla's grip slipped, and they ended up in a pile on the ground, John leaning against Teyla's knees and Elizabeth holding her from toppling backwards from her awkward crouch.

Elizabeth put her hands on John's cheek to steady the tremors.

"Teyla, he's burning up..."

* * *

><p>Rodney wormed himself into the middle of the pack of soldiers, only then feeling even marginally safe from the growling and – in some cases squealing – shadows that surrounded them. The closer they got to the booming sound of drone explosions, the more crowded the forest around them seemed to become.<p>

"Heads up!" cried the man on the right flank, Rodney couldn't remember his name, and Rodney shied to the left as the soldier opened fire into the oppressive darkness. A pale shadow, bristling with teeth and claws, loomed large for a moment, then squealed and faded away again.

Rodney shied back to the right when Cole fired into the darkness from the opposite direction.

"Light! Form up and get as much light as we can into the perimeter. We need to know if they're attacking or just passing by," Ford bellowed from the front of the human pack. The soldiers immediately put their backs to the center and sprayed as much light as they had into the forest in a full circle. Rodney decided to stay in the middle. To check his useless scanner again. Say.

The trees around them were alive with motion. Some dragons loped by, ignoring them completely. Others seemed to be padding in great circles around them, their eyes catching the light and glowing weirdly before skulking on.

As if emboldened by the group's hesitation, a hunting pair leaped out of a shadow and reached for the nearest Marine with long, claw-extended forelegs. Two men fired into the charging beasts and one went down with a pitiful scream. The other screeched at its wounds and reared up, wings fully extended, and struck out at the source of its pain. On its hind legs, the dragon was nearly seven feet tall with a wingspan that stretched almost a full twelve feet from tip to tip.

A powerful swipe knocked the M16 out of the closest Marine's hands. As the man ducked to snatch desperately for his weapon, Rodney could swear the dragon was looking right at him. It screamed another challenge and then shuddered as no fewer than four other weapons pumped rounds into its exposed chest. The dragon fell onto its back and writhed with pitiful moans, then went still.

Rodney was shaking so hard, he wrapped both hands around his gun, fearing he'd drop it.

"Damn, those things are tough," Ford muttered, sounding less shaken than...calculating.

They stood in a breathless circle for an excruciating minute, then Ford waved them forward when the remaining dragons all passed on by. "Stay close together. Keep your light on the perimeter. I'd rather go slow and all get there than fast and leave a few of you behind to fill up dragon bellies."

Rodney didn't think Ford's macabre joke was nearly as funny as the rest of the men seemed to.

The closer they got, the more dragons they encountered. Two more hunting pairs tried to take a bite, only to be driven back by gunfire each time. Rodney was pretty sure that they'd only managed to kill one of the dragons, though. The things _were_ "damn tough". Finally, Ford raised his fist and they stopped creeping forward.

Rodney was sweating from nerves, though the breeze on his face felt cold. The pause was longer than usual and he finally stopped darting his eyes in every direction to focus on their path ahead and figure out what they were waiting for. Once he processed the scene, it was pretty damn obvious what they were waiting for.

Just ahead, about one hundred yards from their wary huddle, the ground went rocky and trees jutted tall and straight for many feet before the first branches spread out. A faint glow from the outpost's staircase twinkled just within view. Between them and the stairs were at least a dozen dragons, pacing wildly back and forth. On the hillside far above, flashes and booms washed over the mountain, looking like lightning strikes through the tree trunks. With each explosion, the dragons would startle, then resume their pacing, sometimes voicing a mournful howl.

"Cease fire, Walker. We're almost to the blind. Dr. Weir, can you see any dragons from there?" Ford's voice echoed in the cold air and in Rodney's earpiece. Rodney thought his question was rather optimistic, considering how many dragons they could see from here.

"Yes, lieutenant. Unfortunately I can. There are at least six on the stairs. A few more groups decided to huddle up rather than bolt. Be advised, there are still several dragons in the area." Elizabeth, on the other hand, sounded properly annoyed.

"No kidding. We've got grenades and flashbangs. We'll scare the rest away if we need to. Ford out."

Rodney fidgeted as the young Lieutenant considered their options, then whispered with Cole for another moment.

"All right. We're going to pitch a flashbang onto the path between here and the stairs. Hopefully they'll scatter and we can advance. We'll repeat as needed. Rear flank stay keen. Cole...go!"

Cole had his stun grenade ready to fly and Rodney watched him pull back and fling the canister a whopping 50 meters. Everyone else had ducked and shoved their fingers in their ears before Rodney remembered what a stun grenade actually did. He just got his own hands over his ears and his eyes screwed shut when the concussion rattled his chest. Even with closed eyes, he felt them water from the bright flash, even more intense after his long spell in almost total dark.

Apparently the dragons liked the grenade even less than Rodney. The howling that went up from the group in their path was spine chilling. Several blundered off their path, running crazily into deeper forest. The rest rolled and clawed at their heads.

"Move!" Ford bellowed and the group lunged forward in a clump. They made it almost to the foot of the glowing stairs – Rodney could just see the bottom step somewhat over their heads as the ground rose steeply – when a cry from the rear jolted Rodney's heart into his throat.

He spun in time to see a very large dragon dragging Markham away by the back of his vest. The man seemed relatively uninjured, the dragon had its jaws clamped around the fabric just where the loop already existed, but Markham couldn't get his M16 up and around to fire on his own behalf.

Ford ordered defensive positions and raced to the back of the group just as Sgt Cole stepped outside the circle to get a shot at the dragon's side. It worked, the dragon dropped Markham and howled as it skittered away, but Cole was now out of position, easy prey for the dragon's partner who pounced out of the night and knocked Cole down in a single swipe.

"Cole!" Ford screamed when Cole went down. The dragon lowered its head and snapped. Cole yelled a bloody curse. Somehow, Ford managed a shot that struck the dragon's flank, causing it to lift its head enough for him to put another round into its skull. The dragon screamed, then fell on top of Cole.

A burst of gunfire from the Marine on watch at the front startled Rodney and he spun again to see another pair retreating just far enough to pace in the shadows.

"They're hunting us!" Rodney screamed. "They're coordinating their attack!"

"Back to back!" Ford ordered. "Keep them away!"

The group scrambled to obey and Ford and Markham, shaken but no more than bruised, managed to get Cole to his feet. Ford shoved Cole, bleeding freely from a deep bite in his shoulder, into the center of the pack next to Rodney and turned his own weapon outwards.

Rodney fumbled for a field compress and managed to shake the sterile pad without dropping it. Cole grunted a word of thanks when Rodney slapped the pad against the tooth-shaped holes in the man's jacket. It took him another moment to figure out how to tie the long gauze strips, but in the end, the pad looked like it would stay put. Cole lifted his M16 with his other arm and shrugged Rodney off.

Outside their small, bristling ring, dragons prowled in an ever-tighter circle. They were no longer yowling, but Rodney thought their eyes were glowing more brightly, as if they were pleased or excited by their prey's sudden panic. First one, then another would dart closer, take a swipe, then skitter away, testing them.

"If they're smart enough to attack all at once, then we're screwed," Rodney moaned to Cole who was pressed against his back.

"Let's hope they're the 'Plucky Ninja' types," Cole breathed back, just almost making Rodney laugh at the joke. Their situation, however was no laughing matter.

As if cued by a silent signal, the pack surrounding them went absolutely still.

"This is really not...good," Rodney whispered.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth brushed sweaty strands off John's forehead and laid her palm full against his brow.<p>

"Was he this hot before?"

"No. I believe the seizure is a result of sudden spike in fever. It is common in children but I have never known an adult to react in this way."

"Febrile seizure. Or something related to the dragons. I shouldn't have let him stand there for so long." She spat the words, feeling the frustration of responsibility.

"The Major is aware of his limits, Elizabeth. He would not have spent his strength if he did not feel it was important." There was a hint of rebuke in Teyla's tone.

"The Major seems to feel that _everything_ is more important than his own survival," Elizabeth snapped back.

"The Major has a really, really bad headache. Could you girls argue somewhere else?"

John was breathing fast and still clutching his head, but he'd stopped shaking and his eyes glittered with awareness.

"John, you suffered a mild seizure. Ford will be here any minute. Just lie still for a little while longer, and then we'll get you home." Elizabeth's reassurance was almost desperate. A very, very petulant _I told you so!_ was aching to escape her lips.

"Ford's here?" The news alarmed rather than calmed him. He squirmed, then rolled to push himself to his feet again, clutching at Teyla as if she were a pole to be climbed. "I didn't get...turned...on..." he panted, finally steady enough to reach for the beacon panel.

His hands were shaking and his shoulders were shuddering, but his intent was steady. Elizabeth could feel herself shaking with anger at his stubbornness, but she continued to hold her tongue. Maybe he would finally lie down if he finished whatever task he believed was so important. Maybe she didn't care anymore if he _did _kill himself by pushing too hard.

"There," he grunted at last. The light she'd taken such pains to turn off two hours ago came back to life with a series of rapid blinks before it settled into a placid blue. In the main room, the control panel flickered, then went dark as power was diverted into the beacon.

"We can't use the camera, now," she said, too weary to even sound very accusatory.

"Ford...will give us... all clear," John gasped, sounding satisfied. "Let's go. Help me to the door."

He reached out his arm and Elizabeth took it. It was like standing next to an oven, he was so hot with fever. She became aware of his every breath as they crossed the dark room with only the light from Teyla's flashlight to guide them again. In the tiny space, the control console had seemed almost cheery and bright. As they walked, she felt him tremble slightly each time he put his injured leg out for another excruciating step. But though his entire body was screaming pain and fatigue, his face was merely focused, his eyes determined.

And they still had to make it to the jumper, nearly a mile through dragon-infested woods.

Again, anger fled and solidified into aching worry. She didn't know what to feel. She wanted to _stay_ angry, so the consequences would be his fault. So she could blame him and ... concentrate on something other than horrified speculation on what Atlantis would be like without him.

They reached the door and John bullied her and Teyla back into their tactical vests. Teyla, in turn, insisted that John also wear his own vest that had provided valuable protection from the first dragon's claws. He conceded, but his hiss of pain as the heavy jacket settled on very sore shoulder was hard to miss.

At last, he was satisfied that they were ready. There'd been no word from Ford. The night outside the door had gone quiet, save for a single last boom several minutes ago that John had identified as a flashbang. They waited by the door. John shifted constantly, unable to suppress soft hitches as he hung between the two women, his arms lying heavily across their shoulders.

"Where are they?" Elizabeth wondered, softly.

"Let's find out," John growled. "Open the door."

Elizabeth took a breath to protest, swallowed it down. So far, every time she'd voiced an objection to one of John's orders, he'd either ignored her or it had been the wrong call. Finally, _finally_ resolving to just do as he said, as he'd asked back in the Athosian village, she took a deep breath, let it out.

"Ok. But you have to swipe the bar."

* * *

><p>For the second time that day, Rodney was sure that he was dead. When the herd went quiet, his life flashed before his eyes and the only thing he could think was "Killed by dragons - They'll never publish that in the New York Times obituaries."<p>

No one said anything. There was nothing to say. These soldiers weren't big on farewells, Rodney guessed, sadly. He had been looking forward to the "it's been a pleasure, men" speech. You know, if he had to go out surrounded by guns and camo and snarling beasts, he'd hoped to at least get a Hollywood scene out of the deal.

When the deadly quiet continued, Rodney felt a few of the men shift around him. Still, no one said anything.

Finally, one of the dragons stood up from its lethal crouch...and sat on its haunches like a dog who'd been told to "sit". As if that one had broken a spell, or was cool enough to start dragon attitude trends, all of them relaxed their hunting poses. One or two laid down and put their heads on their paws, wings fully furled and almost invisible against their smooth hides. A couple of the others simply padded away.

"What...just happened?" Ford asked out loud, sounding completely flummoxed.

"I have no idea..." Rodney began when Cole jabbed him suddenly in the ribs with an elbow and a big wide grin. He threw a triumphant finger at the top of the glowing staircase where, peeking between two broad tree trunks, Rodney could just see a small, twinkling blue light that hadn't been there before. Rodney grinned back. "But if I had to bet, my money'd be on Sheppard."

* * *

><p>The door opened with a groan and Teyla shoved the muzzle of her P-90 into the opening, tensed and ready to fire. Elizabeth held on tight to John, trying to see everything and brace for retreat all at the same time. But instead of a pack of dragons leaping at her with poisonous claws, what she <em>did <em>see took her almost as much by surprise.

Not twenty steps below, Rodney and Ford were jogging towards them. A row of Marines holding flares and casually waving them at eight or ten docile or reclining dragons, lined the steps in intervals all the way to the bottom.

"We were just going to call you!" Rodney bellowed cheerfully.

Elizabeth could only stare, dumbfounded with relief, when they reached the top. Ford was looking wary as usual, Rodney breathless but beaming.

"It is very good to see you," Teyla exclaimed, her voice cracking with relief. "We are quite ready to go home."

"I bet you are," Ford answered, but his look was at John who had managed one painful hop out onto the porch, but was otherwise still depending on Elizabeth to hold him up. "You okay, sir?" he asked.

"Been better," John rasped in reply. "Any trouble?"

Ford shrugged. "Nothing we couldn't handle, sir," he said, but Elizabeth thought his look was coy.

"Nothing that beacon couldn't handle, you mean. We were almost dragon kibble. I was sure that pack was going to go Ninja on us and reduce the whole lot of us into little bits of grain-fed meat. Whatever you programmed that beacon to say, you got it turned on just in time. They were hungry and ready for Rodney McKay sandwiches, not that I blame them for coveting the fine filet I would undoubtedly make. Still, it's nice to be in one piece. You look like crap, Sheppard."

Rodney was talking so fast that Elizabeth had an impulse to check _his_ blood pressure. Despite the speed of his rant, she didn't miss the story, and she shot John a look of wonder. How had he known? How had be been so _sure_ that reprogramming the beacon was important enough to risk the pain and consequences?

John just grunted. "McKay, check the power. Make sure it will keep the beacon broadcasting for a couple of days until we can come back and figure out how to lure the dragons away from the settlement permanently."

Rodney jerked his head in acknowledgement, then froze at the threshold.

"There's not anything...in there, is there?"

"Just a lot of dust and a dragon beacon. Move."

Rodney skittered inside, grumbling, but unhesitant. Elizabeth handed John over to Ford while they waited. Her own shoulders ached from tension and the effort of lugging John around the blind. John sagged heavily in Ford's grip and she wondered briefly how he was going to make it all the way back to the jumper. He already had the look of a man simply living moment to moment.

When Rodney returned, only a couple of minutes later, she was getting antsy and had to stop herself from checking John's pulse with every gasp he let escape. Rodney took John's other arm, and between them, John was able to hop the steps without lowering his injured leg at all. She followed close on Teyla's heels down the steps, towards the waiting rescue team.

The dragons lolled and lounged around them, looking like nothing more than very, very large housecats. With wings. And spiral tails.

At the bottom step, Ford re-organized the group and they moved into the forest.

Elizabeth stuck close to John, as did Teyla. When Rodney and Ford were exhausted, they switched out with two other men and kept moving. John's chin ducked lower and lower the longer they walked. The two sergeants carrying him exchanged a worried glance when John's feet began to drag, giving up even the pitiful attempt at walking. With silent agreement, they paused, and in one smooth movement, flipped John over Sgt. Forrester's shoulder in a fireman's carry.

John lifted his head and Elizabeth saw his face go annoyed, but he just sighed and tightened his jaw further, pulling faces when the man carrying him stepped heavily over rocks and cracks in the dry ground. The occasional rustle of dragons skulking nearby startled them, but none attacked. They did pause to wait for a rather large fellow to wander off their path.

Elizabeth had never been so glad to see a jumper in her life as when they finally skidded down a last leafy incline and spotted the little ship resting in its nook of the forest. She pushed her way through the clump of men to stand by John and his escort while Ford took a man to walk around the jumper and make sure no creatures – dragon or otherwise – had decided it use its bulk as a hiding place.

When they finally called the area clear and the hatch began to lower with a comforting whine, she was already mentally reviewing the first aid kit's inventory and planning her strategy for getting John to Atlantis as fast as possible. No stops at the settlement.

Markham bolted up the ramp once it touched ground and flung himself into the pilot's seat. Elizabeth cued up between John and Teyla, waiting for the others to stow their gear. John was squirming on Forrester's shoulders and grunting unheeded orders to 'put him damn down'.

"We'll be inside soon, sir," was Forrester's easy retort.

Elizabeth was so focused on what first aid they needed to deliver, how long it would take to get home, how high John's fever remained, that she completely missed the sudden metallic thump against the jumper's hull. A second later, she, Forrester, John, and Teyla were knocked flat, bowled over by a heavy falling body. There was shouting and growling all around her. Elizabeth struggled to her feet and felt a hand on her arm, Teyla's, tugging her backwards and off the ramp.

"Holy cow! They're falling out of trees, now!" she heard Rodney say above the melee.

She backpedaled even further when she finally realized that there was a dragon, smallish but no less terrifying, on the ramp between her and the jumper. It hissed and spat, angrier than she'd yet seen any dragon. When it paced a bit further up the ramp, she noticed that one rear leg dragged the ground. Injured and desperate, this dragon was obviously able to overcome the beacon's soothing influence...and it was holding a grudge!

Teyla took a step in front of Elizabeth but looked perplexed. Forrester had recovered quickly and was aiming his sidearm at the dragon from just inside the ship, as was John, who'd managed to get himself up on his knees after their tumble. Weapons also bristled from the men inside, but no one could fire, lest they hit each other with the dragon in the crossfire. Thinking that she should just get out of the way so Forrester could drive the dragon away, she took a quick step to one side.

Apparently, this was NOT the thing to do. The dragon whipped around and crouched, spotting the motion.

"Freeze, Elizabeth!" John cried at the same time Teyla yelled, "Don't move!"

Elizabeth froze, feeling herself caught in the dragon's enraged eye. The night went quiet, locked in a stalemate tableau. The dragon's tail curled and uncurled.

Still frozen, Elizabeth saw John rise carefully and smoothly to his feet. Her heart thumping, she watched him take a slow step _towards_ the dragon, then another.

"Don't. Please, John. Don't," she whispered as John moved even closer, stretched out a shaking hand to the dragon's flank.

The instant the dragon felt John touch its side, it whirled and snapped. John threw up his good arm and went down on his knees.

"No!" Elizabeth screamed when the thing chomped down hard on John's forearm. John yelped, then – against all common sense – gasped, "Stay back! Give me one...second." He slapped his weak, bloody hand on the dragon's skull.

She ignored his command and rushed forward, vowing to beat the thing off with her bare fists if she had to. John just closed his eyes and whispered softly, muttering to himself nose to muzzle with the brute.

The dragon growled, low in its throat, then...whimpered. Elizabeth froze again. The dragon let go of John's arm and bobbed its head up and down for a moment and then butted him gently in the chest like a cat butts a friendly hand, looking for a scratch. John toppled backwards, but managed to lift a hand to scratch the dragon on its scaly head.

"Go on, shoo," he panted. "Shoo!"

The dragon whimpered again, bobbed its head up and down, then leaped off the ramp to limp a few feet away, where it curled up in a pile of leaves and watched them, eyes glowing in the jumper light.

Pretty much everyone just stared. John gave her a single, weary look, then flopped onto his back to lay in a sprawl against the ramp. Teyla, Forrester, Ford and Elizabeth rushed to crouch beside him, where he lay chortling rather hysterically.

"I think," he choked out, alternately laughing and gasping, "I think it broke my arm."

"Get him inside," Ford ordered. "Let's get the hell out of here."

Forrester just grabbed John by the armpits and dragged him into the jumper. When they were finally settled, he was sprawled on the floor between the rear seats in the cockpit, Teyla and the Marine medic hovering close on one side, Elizabeth wedged up next to him on the other. The manic laugher had faded quickly. Instead, he curled his body around his broken arm, screwed his eyes shut, and began to pant around barely repressed groans of discomfort.

By the time they reached the forest canopy and the jumper was finally pelting over starlit ocean towards home, Elizabeth was never in her life so glad to see someone pass out as when John finally gave a last, gasping curse and went limp.

"Pulse is up. Temp is...really high," the medic murmured worriedly, then began to break out bags of saline and snap instructions to Teyla.

All thought of helping faded and Elizabeth found herself simply watching him breathe, willing him to keep doing so.

"Come on, John," she whispered. "We're almost home. But you've got a fight ahead of you and you owe me at least as much stubbornness now as you showed in that hole in the ground. It's time to take care of yourself for a change. Time to fight for yourself."

She leaned closer, brushed dull strands of hair off his fever pale forehead. Deep worry and that same emptiness she'd felt before when he was unconscious tugged at her chest.

"You have to live."


	6. Chapter 6

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes, yawned, then squirmed in the uncomfortable infirmary chair trying to find a position that would keep her awake. The constant tapping beside her, however, was almost like white noise and kept lulling her into weird daydreams about tap-dancing teddy bears.

Nearby, John lay on his gurney surrounded by a hodge-podge of medical equipment, half Terran, half Atlantean, still sleeping off the bacterial infection that had almost claimed his life. His left arm was mummified to the wrist in gauze. His right forearm was wrapped in an air cast from wrist to elbow though the bones the dragon had chomped were only cracked, not broken as John had feared. His left leg was equally wrapped from thigh to knee and lay on top of the covers, propped on pillows. Other than some delusional murmurings, he hadn't regained full consciousness since they'd gotten him home last night.

He still looked pale and uncomfortable to Elizabeth, but Carson kept assuring them that the fever was down to a manageable 101 and that they had controlled the infection before it had caused any lasting damage. Thanks to the Ancient anti-biotic formula she'd found in the database.

The rest of the infirmary was very quiet around them. Ford had returned to his duties in the military garrison. Teyla had accompanied the boy, Jaxim, back to the settlement to help his family understand and implement the anti-biotic regimen Carson had prescribed. She left John's side reluctantly, and only with the promise that Elizabeth and Rodney would sit with him. It was an agreement Rodney seemed to be taking very seriously.

Amused, Elizabeth jammed her chin into her hand and twisted to stare at Rodney whose flying fingers were the source of the tapping. He sat hunched in the next chair over, a laptop balanced on his knees and his toes thumping the floor in time to his fingers. Elizabeth had never pegged him as the vigil-keeping type. In fact, she had heard him complain about the "voodoo sciences" so often, that she rather assumed he would prefer to stay away from the place altogether.

Maybe he'd just changed in the months they'd lived in Pegasus. He was still arrogant and a bully when it came to his labs and his team, but there was something different about him. About the way he behaved on John's team at least. After their first disastrous team mission, where they'd almost ended up floating in space with half a jumper, she'd been sure she'd never get Rodney through the stargate again, much less on one unknown alien planet after another.

Instead, he followed John as dutifully as any of the rest of Atlantis's soldiers. Now that she thought about it, it seemed peculiar: Rodney was cautious to the point of paranoia. John was a risk taker. How in the hell did that make for a successful team dynamic? It had driven her crazy in the blind, she admitted, taking the "cautious" role as she had.

"What!" Rodney snapped startling her out of rabbit-hole musings.

"Excuse me?" Elizabeth blinked, then realized that she must have still been staring. She felt a grin cross her lips at Rodney's wary indignation. "Oh, I was just thinking."

"Well, what were you thinking? Because it looked like you were throwing the stink-eye."

"What did you mean when you said, 'safe enough for John'?" she heard herself say, her over-tired brain doggedly pursuing a line of thinking that had continued to baffle her since the nano virus outbreak. It was Rodney's turn for a blank stare, so she elaborated.

"When John and I were arguing about going to the dragon research blind and you asked me if I really wanted to go and I said _John thinks it's safe enough _and you said -."

"Safe enough for him," Rodney finished, quick on the uptake as ever. He looked at her as if worried about her sanity. "I meant…safe enough for him?"

Elizabeth shook her head. She really needed to understand. "But did you mean he takes things too lightly? That he takes too many risks? As in safe _enough_? As in barely?"

Rodney finally picked up on the semantics she was implying. He shook his head. "No, I meant 'Safe enough for _him_'. He and Ford and most of those other guys, they _know_ things, Elizabeth. Things you and I can't even imagine, like how many bullets it takes to kill a wraith and how to survive in the forest at night with nothing but a loincloth and a K-Bar and how to…well, you get the idea. 'Safe enough for him' is an entirely different scale than safe enough for you or me."

"But do you think that makes him reckless?"

Rodney considered the question carefully. "I used to think so," he said, then turned back to his computer as if planning to leave it at that.

"Used to?" she pressed. She threw a look at the still-sleeping John, feeling like she was on the edge of something important. Something that could help her understand this man she was forced to work with – a man who she'd recently realized she depended on more, much more, than she knew…or wanted. It was why she was so thrown when they hit the wall during the nano outbreak.

Rodney sighed, closed his laptop and also scrubbed at his eyes. It was nearly midnight.

"He's smart," Rodney admitted, sounding the kind of uncomfortable that meant 'guys don't talk about this stuff'.

"If he's so smart, how does he keep almost getting himself killed," she sighed, frustrated. At the end of the day, that was the issue. She couldn't trust him if a) he couldn't evaluate risk sensibly and b) if he was going to…die. Like Sumner. Like Gaul and Abrams and Johnson and Dumais…

"The operative word is _almost_. Sheppard's idea of acceptable physical abuse is also on a different scale than yours or mine, but the fact that he's still breathing is something of an indicator, don't you think?"

"I really don't follow you, Rodney."

Rodney twisted, his face taking on some of the same intensity as when he was explaining a particularly complex puzzle he'd solved.

"Have you ever seen him say something crazy or run off and do something insane only to realize twenty minutes later that he was simply three steps ahead of everyone else and on the right track all along?"

Elizabeth just glared. That pretty much summed up his behavior in the blind when he wouldn't give up on the talking to dragons thing. And if she was totally honest with herself, she could almost admit that he'd been, a little right in pursuing Dr. Peterson. She wouldn't concede that conflict, yet, but she could _almost_ see that John _had_ been looking further down the road than she had been at the time. Rodney nodded knowingly.

"Annoying isn't it? I thought he was mad going after that wraith alone a few weeks ago. But…when I was putting the jumper back together I realized that it _was_ trying to hotwire the subspace radio to send an SOS, just like Sheppard said. Sheppard kept it busy for hours with his cat and mouse, otherwise, I'm sure…well, we'd have a lot more on our plates than supply issues and angry Genii."

Elizabeth's anger was wavering. That explained Rodney's shift in opinion, still…

Rodney wasn't finished. His expression went coy, and his voice went low.

"You know that thing he does, when he says something clever and people stare at him and he just stares back and shrugs it off like he just got lucky?"

A dozen images of John doing just that flashed through her mind – John operating the Ancient chair in Antarctica with a thought _Did I do that?_; John calculating the number of possible gate addresses _I know that, I just didn't expect you to; _John calling for Ford to stop his own heart to get the iratus bug off his neck _How is _that_ an idea?_

She nodded slowly and Rodney repeated, "He's smart. I would bet that for most of his life, he's been the smartest guy in the room and that he's gotten really, really good at hiding it."

"Why would -?" Elizabeth began, but Rodney anticipated the question.

"Because for really smart people, trying to get the idiots around you to see what you see isn't worth the effort and stigma. Why stick your neck out to just be ridiculed and have your face shoved in the toilet, or made to eat your lunch with underwear on your head." He stopped abruptly. Elizabeth stifled a smirk.

"The point is," Rodney went on, adopting an air of superiority, "he probably plays dumb as a survival mechanism. It's too bad. He could have done something useful with his life had he gotten the proper mentoring in his no doubt blue-collar, misunderstood youth."

Elizabeth thought Rodney's theory was rather more autobiographical than accurate, but there was a kernel of truth. _Sometimes I see things a little differently… _

"More useful than saving our lives from rampaging Genii, life-sucking wraith, and brain exploding nanoviruses?"

"Yeah. Shame, isn't it?"

"I guess so." Rodney returned to his typing and it took everything Elizabeth had not to giggle. Rodney's arrogance knew no bounds, but it was high praise of sorts for him to consider John's intelligence uncultivated rather than simply lacking. She would definitely have to think on that remarkable display of Rodney-style-praise.

A low groan distracted her from her musings and brought her fully alert. John was rustling under the sheets and she saw one hand lift from the covers briefly.

"He's waking up," she whispered, relieved and excited. Rodney's typing faltered, though he stubbornly continued in fits and starts as if trying not to care…too much.

Before she could even think about calling for Carol, Carson's research assistant who'd drawn nursing duty, Carson himself, looking as pale and exhausted as John, bustled to John's side and began fussing with the machines around the bed. Elizabeth stood, stretched and sauntered to the other side watching John and feeling a smile of relief on her lips.

After another groan, Carson took position at John's side and put a gentle restraining hand on the casted arm. For a long time, he just waited, quietly watching as John worked himself conscious. Elizabeth found herself holding her breath when his eyes finally fluttered open. Carson leaned closer.

"There ya are, Major. Welcome back. You've given us quite a scare, but you're on the mend. Would you like some water?"

John's head turned, tracking Carson's voice. He nodded slightly. Carson lifted John's head and tipped a small paper cup to his lips. Useful things like straws hadn't been on their list of critical medical supplies when planning the expedition, but like coffee and laptop batteries, they were on the list of things that were really missed when the need came up.

John licked his lips and nodded again, as if to himself. "How long…out?" he asked through a hoarse and gravelly throat.

"You've been sawing logs for almost a day. But that's to be expected. Are you feeling much pain, lad?"

John's shrug was the kind that said "Hell yes, but don't make me admit it." His face was growing slick with sweat and the easy breaths of sleep were devolving into fast, controlled pants. Carson was apparently familiar enough with the language of "tough guy" that he kept his face unconcerned.

"On a scale from one to ten, tell me where your pain is?"

"Pick...number from one to ten?"

"Yes, son. Tell me how bad you're feeling."

"Eleven," John said, and Elizabeth cringed. She hated the thought of him in that much pain. But John kept going, "What has a trunk and lives in a circus?"

"Uh..." Carson looked completely nonplussed by the question. Elizabeth was assuming John was either crazy with pain or loopy from fever, but Rodney, who's fingers had gone quiet, chortled.

"That's irrelevant!" Rodney called from his chair, loud enough for John to hear. A ghost of a smile touched John's lips.

"Right answer. Lots of 'relevants in the circus..."

Rodney chortled even louder until he noticed both Elizabeth and Carson glaring at him.

"Duck Soup," he said as if that explained everything. When they continued to glare, he shrugged dramatically, "Marx Brothers? Rufus T. Firefly? Oh, never mind." He closed his laptop, stood, stretched and waved at John from the foot of the bed. "Sheppard, these people are uneducated. Glad to see you're back. I'll check in on you tomorrow."

"Thanks," John whispered with a weak wave of his own.

Carson rolled his eyes. Elizabeth grinned when he just patted John on the shoulder and said with an air of exasperation, "I'll bring you something. You can keep Elizabeth company while I get it."

Carson scurried away and John's face went wary at the words. His eyes darted from side to side until he spotted her sidling closer and then narrowed. She stiffened, feeling his unease immediately.

"Good to see you…awake," she stammered, feeling idiotic. She hadn't really thought about topics of conversation with her recently conscious 2nd in command. There was a very awkward silence.

"Settlement…settlement safe?" John asked at last.

"Yes. The dragons that had made it as far as the settlement were also pacified by the beacon. Rodney and Grodin have been working all day on figuring out how to move the transmitter so we can set it up on the other side of the mountain range. We'll turn it on _come_ for a few weeks to move them and then let them be."

John grunted approval, then closed his eyes. His fists were clenched around the edge of his sheets. So. He wasn't as comfortable as he was playing at. She dredged her mind for something to say.

"Jones opened a new section of the city, today. We found lots of new labs that Zelenka's practically drooling over."

John raised an eyebrow and Elizabeth squirmed. "So, you have to tell me. What _did_ you tell that dragon? The one that bit your arm. How did you get it to just walk away like that?" She blurted the question, desperate to distract him from his pain, but failing miserably at the small talk thing.

John frowned and she had the horrible realization that she'd just reminded a sick man about being attacked by a mad, genetically mutated best from an alien planet. She immediately lifted her hands and backpedaled, "But if you'd rather not talk about it, I understand completely. No need to go worrying about what's in the past –."

She would have babbled on for another hour if John hadn't finally cringed, presumably at her flailing, and said, "Territorial."

She clamped her mouth shut. "Territorial?"

"You said dragons are territorial," he said, eyes closed again, but she thought this time more from embarrassment than fatigue.

"You told it...to leave our territory?" she guessed.

John shook his head. Carson chose that moment to return and she waited, arms crossed and foot tapping while he checked John's vitals again and then plunged a syringe of pain killer into John's IV line. John sank into the pillows and his hands relaxed from their death grip on the covers.

Carson just tutted to himself in a satisfied way and left for his office where Elizabeth knew he was managing naps between 'rounds'. She stepped close, watching John's breath slow, his shoulders relax. He cracked one eye and glared at her, clearly still uncomfortable with her presence. He was a man who hated to be seen at less than his usual, vibrant, best she realized.

"Territorial?" she prompted softly with a smile to let him know she was teasing and that he didn't have to answer if didn't want to. But she was curious. And he'd scared her half to death after all.

John finally grinned a little, tugged his covers up, looking even more embarrassed.

"I, um... _Family_," he said at last. His grin went sheepish. "I told it we were...family."

Elizabeth nodded. Once he'd said it, it made perfect sense.

"Feel better," she said and left to get some sleep. He nodded, already well on his way back to sleep himself.

Her head was full again as she walked the quiet halls to her room. John's official record told the story of a man who marched to his own drummer, even when that beat crossed tempos with his superiors. There were words in his file like "insubordinate" and "disrespectful". But perhaps some of that _could_ be accounted for by an intelligence unrecognized by his chain of command. A chain she was now a part of.

It was up to her, she realized, to decide how she should respond.

* * *

><p>Epilogue – 1 Week later<p>

"Good morning!"

Elizabeth lifted her head at the hearty greeting to find John already at her desk and plopping himself in the chair opposite her. She blinked, dragging her brain out of the report she was reading. John watched, heels bouncing against the floor, until she was able to push back and give him a smile in return.

"Good morning," he repeated with that half-grin that meant _oh, there you are, welcome back. _It was a pattern of theirs that was becoming ritual. It felt...nice.

"Good morning, yourself. Carson's letting you work?"

"Light duty. As of today. I'm bored. What you got?"

She just laughed, leaned back in her chair to give him a good lookover. He was washed but a little scruffy – the dragon scratches on his cheek and neck were still red, if not oozing, and he'd obviously shaved only as close as the tender skin would allow. He was also wearing his long-sleeve shirt, despite the warm air that drifted through the control room's open balcony doors, and she guessed that he was either shy about the scratches or didn't want to appear less than capable.

His eyes were smiling and she was _relieved_ to see that "let's go" energy radiating from him again. He'd taken several days to get his strength back from the draining infection. John lying docile in a hospital bed was more disturbing than she wanted to admit.

"What have I got that qualifies as light duty? Hm, well Zelenka's team is initializing a bunch of equipment they found in the new labs. They could use another ATA carrier to turn things on."

John frowned. "Never mind. I really just came to say thank you."

"Thank you? For what?" She leaned forward, studying him to see if he was teasing.

"For the antidote to the dragon bacteria. Carson told me it was you who dug up the formula or vaccine or whatever from the database. That I'd still be lying there waiting for our own antibiotics to kick in if you hadn't."

"Oh." Elizabeth felt her cheeks go red. Not from praise, but from chagrin. John tilted his head and his grin went puzzled.

"What?" he prompted at last.

"It was...your idea," she confessed.

"I really don't get it."

"You said that the Ancients were stupid and left things to assumption."

"Like the beacon signals. Yes. You'd read all their entries on their attempts to communicate more complicated, language-based, commands, but they failed to mention that their stupid beacon had already mastered some basic, instinct-level commands like _come_, and -."

"Family," she finished, enjoying John's squirm. "That was really clever, John. Looking for the solution in the beacon itself was...clever," she repeated lamely.

John just shrugged, exactly as Rodney would have predicted and she found it really hard to suppress a smirk. "It was a long shot. McKay says the Ancients really needed more advancement in the library sciences. What does that have to do with the antidote?"

"Well, I remembered reading something, a random log entry, about a new team member 'completing quarantine after vaccination'. So I dug around in the medical library and finally pieced together that the bacteria the dragons carry is very common on the mainland and that anyone who spent time there had to be vaccinated. That record included the formula for the vaccine and antibiotics they'd developed, but never mentioned the dragons specifically. Carson confirmed that they were the same thing, with some variation after 10,000 years."

"Common on the mainland? We should vaccinate the Athosians!" John snapped, all business. Elizabeth grinned.

"Way ahead of you." _This time, _she thought with amusement. "Carson sent a team two days ago."

"Good. And still, thank you."

"You're welcome." He grinned, slapped his hands on the chair's arms and pushed, clearly planning to move on with his day.

"Can we talk about your almost getting yourself killed again?"

John's dramatic slump was a bit overdone. And the eyeroll was completely unnecessary, but she checked her temper.

"Now?" he moaned.

"Between the iratus bug, the shipwrecked wraith, and now these dragons – not to mention the nuclear explosion that you managed to escape unscathed – I'm seeing a pattern that's alarming. A pattern that involves you getting way too friendly with Carson who should be spending his time on research and not patching you up."

"If there's a pattern, I think it has to do more with being in an alien city in another galaxy full of people eating monsters and, and nano critter things! And by the way, you wanted to go. And I saved your ass. _Again_."

Elizabeth tensed feeling a strong sense of deja vu. This time they had to finish the conversation and come to some agreement or...it wasn't going to work. They weren't going to work.

"And I saved yours," she retorted calmly, patting her laptop. "I need you to take your own welfare into consideration - ."

"Stop," John interrupted softly. He was as serious as she'd ever seen him. To her shock, though, he wasn't angry. He wasn't all bristling elbows like he'd been the last time. "Stop protecting me," he finished.

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. John sighed, scrubbed his eyes, revealing weariness not quite conquered.

"My mission objectives are to support the expedition's scientific research and provide security for all civilian personnel. Elizabeth, it's my _job_ to protect you. To protect Rodney's labrats and the Athosians who we've become responsible for. It's _my_ job."

"But –."

"No. You locked me in that room during the nano virus outbreak not because it was the right thing to do, not because there was a real threat of contamination, but because you decided to protect _me_."

Elizabeth felt her jaw go tight, her face go hot. This was really not where she was wanting the conversation to go because her body was telling her that he was hitting too close to the truth. Y_ou are the ranking military officer. I can't chance you getting infected, _she'd said, incriminating herself. John shrugged, going a little red himself.

"It's sweet and all, but I can't do my job from the sidelines. Not out here. On earth, maybe the brass can call it in, but..."

"I can't run this expedition by myself, John."

"Yes, you can. This," he lifted up his arm still in a cast, "this will heal. Losing _people_? That's...harder." He trailed off, his expression distant for a moment. Then, as if they were simply joking around, he grinned. "I'm not trying to get myself killed. But I will do what I have to do. You have to trust me."

She looked at him for a long time. "I do," she said at last.

"Do you?"

She'd spoken the words harshly, sarcastically, when she'd asked the same of him. He simply looked wary.

"I do. But it's hard, you know?"

"I know."

He left, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Elizabeth sat for a long time.

_"And by the way, I saved your ass."_

_"I know you did. But you have to trust me."_

_"I do…"_

_"Do you?"_

He'd followed her to Pegasus. His very first time through the stargate had been to another damn galaxy because she'd asked him. Because she'd needed his ATA gene. How much more could someone trust another person than that?

She _had_ been protecting him. And it _would_ be hard to stop doing it. Because now, she needed a lot more of him than his DNA.

She shook herself and began flipping through her reports again, but she was only partially successful at concentrating on Rodney's rant about power consumption and prioritization. John's words repeated over and over in her mind: _I will do what I have to do. You have to trust me._

She would try. She had to, because she now realized that every time she got in his way she was putting the people _he_ protected at risk. A shiver ran down her back.

What she feared most was that, someday, she would have to trust him to give his life for them. And he would do it. Because it was his job.

And because he trusted her.

* * *

><p>2 Months Later<p>

Everything was going to hell. Their plans, their hopes to save the city, had collapsed like the house of cards they were. Elizabeth's hand was shaking when she tapped open her radio.

"Colonel Everett, we have a problem."

"What is it?" Everett sounded distracted, stressed. Shouts and explosions echoed through the open channel and then rumbled through her feet.

"We may need to give the order to evacuate."

"Elizabeth, wait!"

Elizabeth whirled to see John dash through the control room. For an instant her heart leaped. John would find a way! He always found a way!

But John didn't stop. He pulled hard on the railing to the stairwell that led into the jumper bay and hopped three steps before he paused. Understanding crashed around her.

"You can't," she pleaded.

"I have to, and you know it."

Because it was his job. Because it was what he had to do.

"John..." she started, aching to argue. Desperate to protect him. His look went hard and she knew that he would go with or without her blessing.

"Go," she whispered. It was important he had her blessing after all, she realized. That he knew she trusted him. He nodded once, confident, unafraid, and then he was gone.

It was like a blow to the gut. She closed her eyes to suppress a gasp.

"What's the status on that damned Jumper?" Everett snapped.

In that moment she hated the Colonel more than she'd ever hated anyone, but she shoved grief and anger and despair to one side. She had to. There was still too much to do. If John managed to take out the hive, she'd be damned if they lost the city from the inside. She owed him that.

"It's on its way."

A/N: Thanks for reading! This was written for Coolbreeze1 for the Sheppard_HC Holiday exchange over on LJ. The prompt was a 1st season story with Elizabeth and Teyla caring for a wounded John. For those craving more Sheyla, (or Sheyla UST) check out "Pivot" ;-)


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